Successor to the Throne
by 1caiser
Summary: After killing Galbatorix, peace is restored to Alagäesia. The rest of Eragon's fortune comes true. The whole summary is on the first paragraph after the Disclaimer. Story is finally COMPLETE! Please still Read and Review!
1. Prologue: Acceptance

**Disclaimer: I don't anything, Eragon-wise, Arya-wise, Saphira-wise, Tialdarí Hall-wise, or some other what-not. That includes Ellésmera-wise.**

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_**Summary:  
Eragon finally kills the dark king, and Alagäesia is gradually restoring to its former glory. As the land settles, the friendship between Arya and Eragon deepens. In the midst of this, Eragon unconsciously stumbles into the rest of his future. Phrases from the text are displayed each chapter, but will eventually run out. Read and, please review.**_

_**This is a first Eragon FF, and shows what happens to the final dragon egg, which has not hatched ever since Oromis' death. Expect little to none mistakes, and all Ancient Language has all the special characters. Perfection is the key. All nonsense will be displayed in the Disclaimer. Expect that to be MiStAkAbLe (mistakable).**_

**Note: And this Prologue is probably a turn-off because this is basically the "climax" of the purple and makes people uneasy. But I only suggest you skip this chapter, and or move on with the next chapter. Then again, the next chapter(s) may feature the purple-ness too. Chapter 3 begins the cleaner part of the story.**

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Prologue: Acceptance

_[An epic romance is in your future, extraordinary, as the moon indicates - for that is a magical symbol - and strong enough to outlast empires. I cannot say if this passion will end happily, but your love is of noble birth and heritage. She is powerful, wise, and beautiful beyond compare...]_

A starlit night decorated the landscape. The stars were beautiful in the forest sky, with a full moon overlooking the minor lights. From an elf building, the princess, Arya surveyed the landscape.

The Tialdarí Hall was one of the few elven structures that was able to portray a clear view of the surrounding landscape. Few trees were able to obscure vision of the admirer, as they stuck out above the treeline. Like the one Arya was looking out of, no trees blocked her line of sight, with the edge of the forest seen a few leagues away.

_When shall this last?_ Arya asked herself. _Is my reign so important that weeks must be forfeited to accept a rightful ruler beside me? Is there no reason for popular vote?_Arya knew deep within her heart that a king must be strong in both mind and matter, and must be able to defend himself and his people whenever the time may come.

It was before departing Ellésmera for the Varden about a year ago that Arya spoke with her mother. Arya knew the scene all too well...

_The bold princess dressed in the elven raiment slowly walked into the throne room that beheld her mother. As Arya bowed, Islanzadí rose from her throne, the cape of swan feather rustling behind her as she moved. After issuing the traditional greetings, Islanzadí spoke after a brief silence._

"_My dear daughter..." she said in the Ancient Language, "you must leave for the Varden so soon?"_

"_Yes, mother," Arya replied, rising to her standing position. "I'm sure Eragon is better off with me gone as to not upset his teachings with Oromis-ebrithil. Besides, it feels as if I have tarried at home for far to long."_

"_Arya..." Islanzadí said, "But you have just returned home."_

"_The same feeling persists."_

_Islanzadí closed her eyes. "Very well, but I have something very important to discuss with you." The queen's eyes opened again as she spoke._

"_After Galbatorix is dead and peace is restored through all of Alagäesia, I would want to have my successor chosen. There is no one whom is heir to the throne but you."_

"_You want me to lead the elves just as you did?" Arya gasped. "I feel as if I am not yet ready."_

_The elven queen sighed. "I believe you are, my daughter. There is still time if you wish it, but that time is short because we may have found our Rider who shall slay that whom has killed my mate and has spread his deceit throughout the land. In the meantime, ponder about this, as I have already resolved my mind to this solution."_

_Arya was taken aback. She hid her surprise with a dip of her head. "I understand."_

"_Thank you for listening to me. May you run swiftly, my daughter."_

"_You are welcome. I shall run as swift and as safe as possible." And with a turn of her body, she sped out of the throne room, a tear of solitude streaking down her face._

It has been a year since that happened. Galbatorix's evil deeds had almost been erased, and the land of Alagäesia was almost as it was during the rule of King Evandar, Arya's father.

_Is something troubling you? _The head of Saphira, dragon bonded to Eragon, rose from the ground._What is troubling your mind?_

_The duties I must assume in a few days. _Arya replied. Her hand gripped the railing in front of her. _And the amount of time need to arrange the terms of her Excellency. It just seems so sudden that my mother is to give the throne to me. And..._ Arya stopped as she cast her glance at Eragon, whom was sleeping on the floor. His face was serene, quiet, and showed no discomfort. _...him. I can't seem to... believe that a farm boy like him would rise to the authority of a king. And this... attraction to him I feel?_ Arya turned her head away from the Rider. _He had achieved of attracting my attention toward him. Every single day, I think of him, even when I am thinking about something else. In the midst of battle I sometimes look around to see him fighting on the ground. Even when I lie down to rest, the image of his face penetrates my concentration._

_You do realize Eragon knows you better than he knows himself, right? _Saphira queried. _That was how he was able to 'paint' the fairth of you._

Arya glanced at under her bed. In the faint light, a black box could be seen. _I kept it, _Arya finally said._Not really, but I had copied it since it gnawed at me like when something bothers me completely. _Arya then closed her eyes, took a rather long pause, and opened them again. _It was still a perfect rendition of me. When I laid eyes on it, I was troubled by how Eragon puts me with such... beauty. I could hardly bear to think myself that highly. Sure enough, I am a princess, but then again, have done things so shameful that even he would cast me away as if I were nothing but a bad omen._

A firm hand rested on Arya's shoulder at that moment. Arya whirled around to see Eragon, his black-brown hair shining in the moonlight. His eyes shone with both vigil and worry.

"What is wrong, Arya?" he asked, his brown eyes swirling in the light. "Are you not well?"

Arya lost her grasp of words, then resented to sending a tight embrace to Eragon instead, tears falling to the ground. Eragon was somewhat frightened by the attachment, and mouthed to Saphira: _Was it something I said? _Saphira responded by shaking her head before descending back to the ground.

Eragon put a hand to the princess' back and one on her head, running his fingers through her hair as she started to cry. "All is well..." Eragon said, trying to assure her. "All is well..."

It was a moment before Arya released Eragon, but still held her forearms. When she looked away, Eragon asked, "Is there something you want to tell me?"

"Yes." Arya choked on the word and hung her head. "I... am so sorry that I hadn't said this sooner."

"What...?" Eragon replied softly.

"I..." Arya hugged Eragon tightly again, burying her face in his chest. "I can't bring myself to say it..."

"You don't have to," Eragon replied. "All that matters is that you are okay."

"I am okay... but I don't feel right without letting you know..."

Eragon blinked. "You may go ahead and say what you have to say. I will not share this information until you deem it necessary.

"You know," Arya started, "that starting tomorrow, the... contest... on whether you shall rule beside me takes place, right."

"I am aware of that."

"I feel... that I want you to rule beside me."

"Is that it?" Eragon asked. "You want me to rule beside you?"

Arya looked away again. "And... not only that... but..." Arya choked on the last word. "Why is it so hard to reveal such a paltry discovery?"

"Because you think the other person already knows it?" Eragon guessed.

"But... Eka hjart ono," Arya said quickly. Even with the fast response, Eragon grasped what she said, now pondering in his mind: _Wait... what? Did she say 'I love you' as in 'I love you?' That can't be right... She refuses to even take my hand. That can't be right... Then again, she said it in the Ancient Language. So what she says is true?_

Eragon was still deep in thought. Arya looked away for a quick second, and the moment Eragon returned from his trance, Arya jerked forward and for the first time, two years since they met and became friends, their lips met contact. In that time span, Arya's eyes were slightly open.

Eragon, whom had clearly not seen it coming, was shocked, enough to not return the kiss. It was still a light kiss, but nonetheless surprising.

It was a few seconds before Arya withdrew. "It is not likely for two lovers should meet and be so many years apart," she said. "And it is not likely should one lover be older than her father-in-law. Such is the laws of nature."

Eragon whom had come back from his surprise, quickly said, "Feigning death is also unnatural. Death is a part of who we are." Eragon then wrapped his arms around Arya. "You are cold, are you not?"

"A little..." Arya said, shivering a bit. "You were going to... participate... in the ceremony, right?"

"If being a Rider doesn't restrict me." Eragon looked up at the full moon. As he watched, two white birds flew across the night sky, glowing in the moonlight. "The only thing is that I don't want my back ripped open like when it did Durza."

Arya rested her head on Eragon's collarbone. "I am sure no one would want to do that. It should be a fair match of mind and sword. Any sort of deception is intolerable."

"Isn't physical attachment a kind of deception?"

"No," Arya said, smiling. "I am glad that physical attachment isn't. It shows well being and good luck. It is not a deception of any kind."

Arya released Eragon and the two pecked each others' lips before returning to bed. Eragon stared at the wooden ceiling. _She finally understood how I felt. A part of me missing and now I am whole._ He smiled at the thought. His eyes became heavy as he descended into the world of dreams.

_Eragon walked through the mist of the Spine. The sky was a pale orange and pink, the sign of morn or twilight. The clouds swirled around a lone star in the sky, so it must be twilight._

_Eragon kept walking, due to instinct, with a hand on the hilt of Brisingr; because he felt danger. He tried to contact Saphira, but she seemed too far away. When Eragon had walked for fifty more paces, the mist cleared, showing the shape of an obscure fortress. Guards were stationed before the gates, numbering ten men with five on each side. They raised their spears like a tunnel as Eragon passed, and the portcullis raised as he neared it._

_Inside, a dark fog settled inside... a lone figure, dressed as black can be, stood in the middle of the courtyard. A sword hung at the person's waist, which he drew. The red sword trailed out with a pale note. The blade gleaned as if splattered with blood, shining in the pale twilight. The man transferred Zar'roc to his left hand._

_At that moment, Eragon lost all will to do anything. He could not breathe properly, nor move; just wait. The man let out his right hand, then said, "Excellent work, my son. Now we may rebuild Alagäesia just as it had been before it was wrecked by Galbatorix. Now, join me, my son. Be my heir and rule beside me." At this moment, Eragon had to remember this man was the same man as the one he had dreamed about two years back in Tronjheim, was Morzan._

_The mist then cleared as Eragon found the will to wheel around, and found another figure, one tall, gentle, and proud. As the other man drew closer, Eragon recognized the man._

_Brom was dressed in the tunic he had worn during storytelling. In his right hand, he held a blue blade; slim, sharp, and as deadly as the most well crafted arrow. It was as blue as the afternoon sky. The sword, which Eragon thought was Undbitr, glowed in respective iridescence as Zar'roc. Morzan's face contorted with disgust._

"_I heard you died, _friend_," Morzan said, putting disgust into the last word._

"_And I thought you were still screaming in agony during that battle we had at Gil'ead," Brom said smoothly. "Looks like I thought wrong."_

"_This boy is my son. He carried my sword and traveled with my firstborn son. He is rightfully mine."_

"_Eta," Brom replied with ferocity. Morzan shook as the Ancient Language shocked him. "He is mine," Brom continued. "He may have carried your sword and traveled with Murtagh, but he has first traveled with me, was taught by me, and has the potency of me. He, even now, possesses my sword and dragon."_

_Then the two spoke in perfect unison: "You must choose, my son. This all depends on whether you make the decision. We give you exactly two minutes. Choose now, or forever be Son of None." Morzan retreated to the palace steps, Brom to the raised portcullis._

_Eragon was speechless and dumbstruck. He had no one to help him. He no longer had Saphira to turn to. It was his choice. He looked at the two men that stood on either side of him._

_Morzan, with the red Zar'roc in his hand, glowed of burning passion and anger in his eyes. Every now and then, his blue eyes would glow red, as if they were the flame of the dwarf furnaces of Farthen Dûr. The hand in which he held Zar'roc was gripped tightly, a white knuckle could be seen from Eragon view._

_Brom stood fearless and serene, as he did when he was speaking to him via Saphira's thoughts. His eyes were cool and peaceful, and like the tide, seemed to flow and ebb. The man whom was Eragon's true father wasn't like he one who had traveled with him, rambunctious and sore-tempered, but now patient and kind. Undbitr seemed to shine with harmony, the grip on its hilt loose and relaxed._

_Eragon closed his eyes and prayed, just as he did when he flew non-stop from Farthen Dûr to Ellésmera, to Gûntera, to help him make the right decision. As Eragon did, he felt himself being pulled to Brom. Eragon opened his eyes, sure of his decision and walked over to Brom's side._

_As Eragon looked back at Morzan, anger and hate surged around him like evil spirits as he lifted Zar'roc to eye level and rasped, "You have yet again defied me, _my son_," Morzan said, spitting the two words as if they were sand in his mouth. "Because you have defied me, I curse you. May you never find your home again. May you never find any place of comfort. May you LEAVE ALAGÄESIA AND NEVER RETURN!"_

_Eragon gasped as the spirits of Anger and Hate swirled around Morzan and entered him. The black hair slowly shifted to a red color. His once apricot colored skin turned ghostly white._

_When Morzan had stopped screaming, he looked down at Eragon with yellow eyes. Eragon stiffened, and glanced at Brom, whose gaze didn't betray peace. He merely lifted his right hand, the glittering sapphire ring, Aren, pointed directly at the Shade. Brom drew upon the ring, and barked, "Deyja un mor'ranr atra ono néiat finna!" A bolt of red and blue lightning shot from the ring and smote the Morzan-Shade in the heart. The bolt continued its path and shot open the doors of the palace, and an explosion racked the building. Eragon shielded his face behind his elbow as shingles and bits of wood flew at him. They were deflected by an invisible shield._

_Brom steadily lowered the ring. When Eragon checked Aren for magic, barely any of it had diminished, despite the wording Brom used. _May you die and never find peace. A death and a curse, _Eragon thought._The most painful death that could be ever dealt to you...

_Brom turned his attention to Eragon. "Do not fear, my son," he said, kneeling down in front of Eragon so that he stared at him in the eye. "There is no need to fear. I have not yet died. I still live within your soul. And Saphira's. Do what you have to do. Whatever the consequence may be, it is unavoidable. I am proud of the caution you took to get this far. You are certainly worthy to be my son." Brom lifted his eyes, twinkling as a tear slid down his face. "I heard from Oromis-ebrithil that you would have become a full-fledged member of our order, were it not for Galbatorix's taint. For that, I am proud."_

_Eragon smiled, but then his face fell as he heard the phrase for the fourth time: May you leave Alagäesia and never return. Brom sensed his sorrow, and asked, "What is wrong, my son?"_

_Eragon fought for words. "When... when you were speaking with Lord Risthart in Teirm, when we were traveling, I had my fortune told by Angela, a witch. She cast a dragon's knuckle bones and it revealed that I shall leave Alagäesia forever." Brom seemed to digest the words as he closed his eyes. Eragon felt a surge of warmth in his mind, clearing his thoughts._

"_She also said," and Brom's words seemed to be in simultaneity with the voice of Angela's, the witch, "_'An epic romance is in your future, extraordinary, as the moon indicates - for that is a magical symbol - and strong enough to outlast empires. I cannot say if this passion will end happily, but your love is of noble birth and heritage. She is powerful, wise, and beautiful beyond compare._'" Brom's voice returned to normal as he spoke again, "I see you may have found that person, although I am not entirely sure. You may even be married to a descendant of King Palancar himself, although, none of the stories say anything about a princess Rider. And as you know, I know all of them." Brom smiled. "In this deadened land, I have contacted Garrow, as he wants to say a few words to you, if you wish." Eragon eagerly nodded._

_Brom closed his eyes again as his voice melded with Garrow's: "So, you gotten into a bit of trouble, eh? I'm glad that Brom kept you safe, along with that massive of a dragon of yours." Garrow-Brom sighed. "At least you're safe._

"_A Rider. If I were still alive, I would hug you, but sine I'm not, I can't. How is Roran? Ah, I need not know. He may not have gotten much through working with Dempton, but he still won Katrina. And Sloan. Tucked away with the tricky elves deep in their forest. I can tell you how many men he killed, too, that Roran! Ten since the man with the white beard, two with 'the Twins,' about two hundred and sixty-four men during the Varden. Heh... He got himself all bloody. You should go meet him at our farm." Garrow-Brom smiled. "Take care, Eragon Bromsson. Atra esterní ono thelduin." And the dream ended as the last of the sun drifted behind the mountains of the Spine. And the last thing Eragon saw were the glyphs inscribed on a stone tablet that was originally in the palace, apparently the only thing left standing, read: Ono dröw eru néiat. You are not alone._

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_As this is a first Eragon FF, please no flames. Constructive criticism is accepted._


	2. The Festival and a Friend

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything but the plot of the story. Otherwise, this would not be a Fan-fiction. Or a kind of writing that is soulfully mine. Nor yours.**

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Chapter 1: The Festival and a Friend

_...I see mighty powers of this land struggling to control your will and destiny. Countless possible futures await you-all of them filled with blood and conflict-but only one will bring you happiness and peace._

Eragon awoke the next morning to a ray of sunlight in his eyes. He slowly got up, and checked the bed for Arya. It was made clean and orderly. Eragon slipped on his tunic and trousers before strapping on the Belt of Beloth the Wise with Brisingr, his sapphire sword, inside its sapphire scabbard.

Eragon went downstairs into the hall with elves bringing the traditional greetings. As he exited out of the Tialdarí Hall, he noticed a gathering of elves around the Menoa Tree.

As Eragon neared, he saw Queen Islanzadí in her swan feather cape, and Arya by her side. He gasped as he saw Arya in her exquisite selection of clothing. She wore a light-green blouse with frizzled lace at the neck area and shoulder openings. Translucent green-tinted sleeves covered her arms. A free falling dress the same color of her blouse covered her legs. A diamond encrusted tiara rested on her head. Eragon found it hard to believe that this was the same person that he had been traveling with since he rescued her in Gil'ead. Eragon could only stare in awe at the princess.

The two walked amongst the elves, chatting away with nobles, and the adviser, Lord Däthedr. The merry expressions on their faces were devoid of anger or worry. It warmed Eragon that things were more peaceful than during Galbatorix's reign.

Eragon approached the crowd, finding that most of them had a sword strapped to their waists. _They must be the ones also going to succeed Evandar,_ Eragon thought. After wandering around the gathering and picking up a goblet of faelnirv, he saw Vanír amongst the crowd. He stuck out because of the sparring they had done, and because of the tight splint on his arm. It appears he hasn't been fully healed yet.

Eragon walked over to Vanír, who was speaking to another elf. When Vanír caught sight of Eragon, he dismissed the other elf, who walked away briskly. Vanír then turned and faced Eragon, starting with the elven traditions. After the exchange of greetings, Vanír put his goblet, supposedly filled with faelnirv, in his right hand and clapped Eragon on the shoulder. "Eragon! How good is it to see you again."

"Same, Vanír," Eragon said, smiling. "How's your arm?"

Vanír sighed. "It appears..." Vanír took a sip from his goblet. "...that the healing of nature hasn't fully recovered my arm. If it did, I'd be happy to give you a good squeeze, but it isn't fully. I hope it will be better by the duels we have later in the day.

"So! I hear that you did a good job putting a sword in ol' Galby's heart, eh? Overpowered him with the sword after depriving him of the Eldunarí? So, you gonna take it up as king? Or will you let someone else do it?"

Eragon lowered his head. "As I told Nasuada before, Alagäesia does not need another tyrant king. I can't be king, let alone even say a few words to a handful of people."

"Then who?"

"I don't aim for some title, as well as that... I couldn't even kill Galbatorix alone. I had the help of a werecat, my cousin, Arya, and all the Varden. If I could recall, I had you take on Galbatorix's personal guard, right?"

"Yep, and I did a good job on it too. None of them escaped my 'left-handed fury.'" The two laughed until Vanír coughed and took another sip of his faelnirv. After the drink, Vanír sighed.

"What's wrong?" Eragon dared ask.

Vanír shook his head. "Nothing seemed right when Oromis-elda died. Things started going haywire, and even the queen lost her temper more than usual. Except, to be replaced by sheer happiness when news of Galbatorix's death reached her."

"That is true," Eragon agreed. "Things also went wrong with me when Brom was gone. I didn't even know the slightest that Brom was my father. It still bothers me that I didn't even know that and I had believed that I was Morzan's son instead. And to think that being called Son on None when everyone actually hated my father. Then, my actual father was a Rider and founder of the Varden.

"Now that Oromis is gone, I don't think what I would do. I was unable to give him a proper burial as Saphira and I did Brom."

Vanír put his good hand on Eragon's shoulder. "Brom died while in your reach. Oromis died when you were leagues away. It is not so shameful. Your father is more important than the best teacher in the world, because he loves you unconditionally. Oromis might have broken and just cast you away when you were still struggling on your ninth word of death."

Eragon gave a slight smile. "I guess... Thank you Vanír."

"May the best man win?" Vanír put up his good hand.

Eragon smiled. "Aye. Let us play fair and with all determination." He grasped Vanír's hand.

A few minutes later, the party became to unbearable to Eragon, and resorted to bringing a goblet of faelnirv for Saphira. The massive dragon swallowed the contents in one gulp, shuddering as the cool liquid seared her throat. A jet of flame exited her nostrils.

_Did I ever tell you about sneezing?_ Eragon asked.

_Oops. The mead tickles._ Saphira snorted.

_You said that when we were at the Varden nearly a year ago. Still you forgot._

_So sorry. The mead tickles._

Rider and Dragon watched the party as several elves communicated, some sparring, and one of them talking to a deer. _Are you going to fly or not? _Saphira asked.

_I guess that is okay. The horn will blow when it is ready for the first session._

_Which is?_

_Sparring,_ Eragon smiled.

With a quick leap, Eragon seated himself on Saphira's back, the saddle already prepared. After securing his feet, he wrapped the straps around his wrists and tugged. At that movement, Saphira soared into the sky with five or so elves singing after her: "Fly well, Bjartskular!"

Eragon smiled as he felt the gusts of wind in his face. It was almost like swimming, but with more freedom. Saphira soared above the clouds, outstretching her wings as she neared them. They hovered there for a moment, when Saphira turned her head and soared after something.

_Something red,_ Saphira explained.

_Thorn? _Eragon asked.

_Maybe. I'm still not sure._

The red object flew fast and then dipped out of the clouds toward the land below. Saphira gave pursuit and landed in a clearing, where the red dragon had landed in not very far away. A man dressed in black with a hood was visible as he jumped down the side of the dragon. A sword's pommel was on his waist, the ruby shining on it with immense power.

Eragon jumped off of Saphira, telling her to stay, and started to walk towards the man with a hand on Brisingr. "Who are you?" Eragon asked when the man was no more than twenty feet away. The man gave no answer, but instead raised his hood and stared at Eragon. Brown hair. Fierce eyes. A serious face. A scar that ran from the right side of his face to the lower part of it.

"Murtagh," Eragon whispered. Saphira growled from behind him. "What brings you here, Murtagh?"

Murtagh smiled. To Eragon's surprise, it was not one of the smiles he had seen during when they had crossed blades, but one of when they had traveled together, nearly half-a year ago. "To witness the coming of the new elven king. Is it not possible since you are missing a Rider?"

"Why would you want to witness it?"

"I have as much right as you do."

"Who says?"

Murtagh merely lifted a lock of hair off the side of his head, showing his slightly pointed ears. "I still may be human, but being a Rider transformed me. Surely I don't have your strength: the elves took what was left of Galbatorix's Eldunarí storage, but I am still Rider in full."

"You have no sense to kill me now?"

"I have no sense to chop off your right hand?" Murtagh smiled again. "Besides, now that Galbatorix is dead, there is no reason other than to witness the coming of the Green Dragon and its Rider, as well as the crowning of the new Elven king."

Saphira stopped her snarling and slowly walked toward Thorn. The two looked at each other with compassion, as when they had met one year ago, before they met at the gates of Uru'baen.

In the distance, a horn sounded. Eragon ran up to Saphira and strapped himself in. "If you wish to come, then follow me! I take place in the ceremony, and I do not wish to be late for sparring!"

Murtagh smiled again and mounted on Thorn. With a roar, the two dragons rose into the air, returning to Ellésmera.

The elves were stunned with the arrival of Murtagh. Morzan's son... had stepped into their most secret haven. Some elves instinctively put a hand on their swords, but Eragon cried out, "Wait!"

Everyone was looking at him now. Steely gazes fixed upon the two Riders. "He doesn't wish to do the bidding of Galbatorix anymore. He just wishes to be the guest who..." Eragon stopped as Arya walked from the raised podium. "Arya?" Murtagh asked cautiously.

"Will you still allow no one to gain access to your mind?" the princess asked.

Murtagh knelt. "I am sorry, I still do not wish to allow anyone but myself and Thorn into my mind. It is the only one sanctuary I have not given up yet. But I shall give you my word, as a Rider, that I shall not harm anyone or anything in Ellésmera, unless if the perpetrator threatens to take the life of you or Queen Islanzadí." Murtagh then swore in the Ancient Language.

"Then you may stay." Arya returned to her mother's side.

Murtagh looked over to Eragon. "When shall it..." but Murtagh was cut off by another blast of the elven horn.

"The festival shall begin now!" Islanzadí called with a somewhat magnified voice. "Today is the day where we start the crowning of our king for the elves. We start with announcing the names..." Eragon steadily made his way of the line of elves that was amassing before Islanzadí and Arya, where Arya smiled as Eragon passed. He gave a quick smile before making his way to the front of the line.

_Sparring..._ Eragon thought. _Surely no way to cheat is possible. Only when it comes to battering each others' mind is the way for a dragon to butt in... at least I had to tell Saphira to not help me with the mind test._

The elves dispersed into the sparring rings. Eragon, unsure what had happened, walked to a ring where only one elf was standing. The elf had long silver hair that stopped at his shoulders. He was an inch or so shorter than Eragon.

The sword in the elf's hand was a straight steel sword, measuring about a yard long. He held the sword in a stance, where his arms crossed each other as he held the blade in both hands. Flashing back to how he started the duel with Galbatorix, Eragon held Brisingr with his right hand and put his left hand in front of him. The elf seemed puzzled at his stance, but steeled his eyes on Eragon.

The elf pounced on Eragon, jumping toward him and easily covering the distance set between them. Eragon easily sidestepped the blow, then brought Brisingr on the elf. The elf blocked the blow, his arm going limp for a second. Bared teeth glistened in his mouth.

The elf started to hack and slash at Eragon, taking any and every opening he could find, which stunned Eragon. His mind became all defensive, blocking every seemingly ferocious attack with ease.

After a few minutes of parrying, Eragon ducked, slipped Brisingr down the length of the elf's sword, and twisted, wrenching the sword from the elf's hand; just as Vanír had disarmed him at their first spar. The sword landed point-first in the ground nearly twenty feet away. The elf knelt as Eragon lifted Brisingr toward the elf's chin. "I submit."

Eragon bowed as he returned Brisingr to the sheath on the Belt. He scouted around for Vanír, whom was found seated on a log not so far away. His narrow elven blade was rested on his shoulder, tip pointing upwards. The splint on his right arm was gone.

"So..." Vanír said with a grin, "How fared our wondrous Rider in his match?"

"I did fine," Eragon replied. He seated himself next to Vanír on the log. "You?"

"He was basically punished."

Eragon nodded his head. "Your arm is better?"

"It still aches a bit," Vanír said, "but the bone is whole once again. It sort of helps me to think I may not be defeated by you again."

"That is good." Eragon looked up and smiled.

A figure sidled next to Eragon, whom he found Murtagh, a grin stretched on his face. _Maybe his True Name has changed,_ Eragon thought. _He grins like a dwarf who had just drank too much mead._

"I saw you sparring with that elf," Murtagh said. "Excellent swordplay, I guess."

"You're not the only one who had gotten more skilled with a blade."

"True, true. Apparently, some elves hadn't finished with their match yet. Would you care to take this time to spar with me? I want to make sure I didn't forget many of the skills I learned."

Eragon grinned. "Whatever you say, half-brother."

Murtagh was puzzled. "Our father is Morzan."

"My father is Brom."

Murtagh sighed. "Well, that's new information to me. Shall we cross swords?" Murtagh drew Zar'roc, while Eragon drew Brisingr. "Why not?" Eragon replied. "Let's go."

The two half-brothers walked to an empty sparring ground, and faced each other with their opening stances. They waited a moment before they jumped at each other, blades clashing in midair, and showering the ground with sparks. Both landed at the same time, then Murtagh spun around and ran toward Eragon, hold Zar'roc like a spear. Eragon blocked the attack with the flat of Brisingr's blade, which caused Zar'roc to surge onwards and be upright.

In that second, Eragon twirled Brisingr, locking Zar'roc beneath. A vein pulsed in Murtagh's temple as he struggled to bring Zar'roc back up. With another shower of sparks, the swords grazed each other, then being parallel with each other, their owners sliding back a few feet.

By that time, a gathering of elves had piled around the ring, watching sparks fly as Murtagh and Eragon danced, swords crossed. Islanzadí and Arya came to watch the duel, wondering why so many elves were assembled around a dueling ring.

Then in unison, Murtagh and Eragon swung their blades with increased ferocity, both being projected backwards, then veered around, a cloud of dust obscuring vision. When the dust settled, Eragon held Brisingr in his outstretched right hand, the tip of it touching Murtagh's chin.

Likewise, Zar'roc was in Murtagh's right hand, but it rested on Eragon's neck. Eragon and Murtagh smiled after a second before bursting out laughing, the swords being sheathed, and the elves crying out in applause. The two half-brothers walked to each other, patting each other on the back and complimenting each others' moves.

_This is how life should have been,_ Eragon thought, _No worries, no pain, just the enjoyment of competition. I should still be at home, crossing pokers with Roran._

When Eragon walked near Arya, the elf-princess put a shoulder on him and asked Murtagh if she could speak a few words to him. Murtagh appeared surprised, but he left Eragon to speak with the princess. Islanzadí's narrowed as if they sensed deception, but she allowed her daughter to go.

Eragon and Arya walked amongst the grass, to some unknown place. They left the shelter of the Menoa Tree, then to the place Eragon barely recognized: Arya's secret area. Arya stopped, then; without the watching of the elves (as well as to Eragon's surprise) pecked his mouth.

"Is this me?" Eragon asked, "or are you expressing more of yourself to me with each passing hour? I don't intend to be angry, but it is just that you never acted this way before."

Arya sighed, her emerald eyes downcast. "Now that Galbatorix is dead, I no longer have to assume to the once omnipresent duties I once had. Are you not satisfied?"

Eragon stiffened, then regained his posture. _Something seems wrong should she say 'satisfied.' Seduction?_

_I am not sure,_ Saphira answered. _She did act strange when she awoke last night._

_Maybe..._ Eragon concluded. _She probably needs something... or someone, to help her progress through Islanzadí's request to rule the elves._

"Yes," Eragon said, "but, you never have acted this way, ever. It seems strange to me that you would be..." He was stopped by another kiss. Eragon pulled away, thundering, "Will you please stop doing that? I would love it if I was crowned king, then I'd be happy for you to shower me in kisses, but this is starting to drive me insane!" Eragon sat on the log and sighed.

"Sorry," was Arya's curt reply. "I shall wait then."

Eragon sighed again. "Foolishness drives us apart. Infatuation should remain infatuation no more. The only thing I ask is please stop being reckless. I have refrained of complementing how good your wear is with your eyes, so it would be nice to have you stop kissing me whenever unnecessary."

"That is fine," Arya said. "You just complemented on how my dress looks on me."

"I did?"

"Yes."

"Hmm, I guess two spars in a row really clouded my mind. Speaking of which, my arm hurts."

"Do you require healing?"

"No, it is fine. Nothing time can't help."

The two sat in complete silence until Eragon got up and said, "I think I should return to my tree."

"May I come?" Arya asked.

"Yes, but I think I would more likely fall asleep than resume conversing. I am sorry if I was being rude."

"Not at all."

Eragon left the scent of crushed pine needles toward the civilization of Ellésmera. When he approached his tree, Murtagh sat at the steps, twiddling his thumbs. "Glad you made it back" was the reply from Murtagh as Eragon approached. "I heard from Saphira that Arya is acting weird. Care to tell me what happened between you two?"

Eragon shook his head. He didn't feel like revealing the mutual attraction between them. _I hope I can speak to Brom. He did tell me that instead of raising the dead, perhaps I can speak with the dead? Unlike in the dream, because I felt awake. Maybe... speaking to the dead shouldn't be too taxing on my body. I think I shall try it later..._

_I think you should consult Glaedr-ebrithil,_ Saphira replied from the side of the tree house._ He should know of communication with the dead._

_I think I shall speak with him tomorrow, or when I wake up. _Eragon trudged through the door and made his way up the stairs. He unbuckled the Belt of Beloth the Wise, transferring what energy he still had in him, and before long, Eragon was asleep.

* * *

As this is a first Eragon FF, be sure to spot any errors, or report them via review. Please no flames. Constructive criticism is accepted.


	3. Mind over Matter

**Disclaimer: I do not own any elements to this... story. My works lie on how I place words together. Sadly, that isn't much: only these meaningless disclaimer messages I place here.**

Note: If you do not want a spoiler for the whole Inheritance Cycle, I suggest you skip the bolded-text that says "Spoiler Alert!"

* * *

Chapter 2: Mind Over Matter

_Beware of losing your way, for you are one of the few who are truly free to choose their own fate. That freedom is a gift, but it is also a responsibility more binding than chains._

Eragon's eyes jolted open. After slowly rising and looking around, he saw the blue mound of Saphira on the ground, outside the window. A waxing gibbous was visible in the night sky. Numerous stars dotted the space around the moon.

When Eragon turned his head, he found two figures on the floor. One was wrapped in a crimson blanket, presumably Murtagh. Another was wrapped in an identical blanket, only that it was green. Eragon carefully stepped off his bed; Murtagh was basically sleeping under the bed; and gently pulled the top of the covers off the person.

There lay Arya.

Only that she wasn't dressed in her princess' gown. She was dressed in simple white clothing, looking like one of the elves' simple tunics, and the elves' simple pair of trousers. From the way the neck opening was sliding off her shoulder, Eragon presumed that she had been sleeping for quite a while.

Eragon retreated to a water bowl on the other side of the room. Gathering any past knowledge of Roran, his cousin, he spoke the words for scrying. "Draumr kópa," he whispered. The water rippled for a second before shifting to an image of Roran and Katrina, in a rather large bed. A plain night dresser that held Roran's hammer lay on the right hand side of the bed. The moonlight shone upon Roran's hand, bringing a near dazzling display of gold light.

_So they are safe,_ Eragon concluded as he released the flow of magic.

"Of course I am safe..." Murtagh said sleepily. "What are you... talking about... _snore_..." Puzzled, Eragon walked over to the bed, about to get in, but instead, walked to Arya's side and gently lifted her so she wouldn't wake up, and set her on the bed, tucking her in with the green blanket. Then Eragon exited the tree house.

None of the other tree houses were illuminated, save for the everlasting flames; the Erisdar lanterns mounted on the steeples of the Tialdarí Hall. Eragon made his way to the forest's monarch: the Menoa Tree.

The massive tree stood well above the others. Its trunk was over five feet in diameter, and judging from the other trees, maybe rose about a hundred feet into the air. Eragon stood before the Menoa Tree, entering the tree's mind and supplying a steady flow of energy with full knowledge that the Menoa Tree would not be roused.

_Greetings, _Eragon said to the Tree, _I am Eragon Shadeslayer, the one whom asked for the nodule of brightsteel under your roots nearly a year's pastime. I have come for your request of what I must do to uphold my end of the deal we have set. Please, hear me out, so I may relinquish the burden of cheating you out of a one-for-none._

The Menoa Tree did not otherwise speak or even stir. Eragon merely cut off the supply of energy and returned to the his tree. But as Eragon turned, he found Arya, wrapped in her green blanket, green eyes piercing through him.

"Is something wrong, Arya?" Eragon said, unsure of what to say.

"No. It's just that..." Arya's eyes turned away. "Some typical infatuation when you say it is unruly. I feel... like I am more secure with you. Tialdarí Hall somehow no longer feels safe."

"It is okay..." Eragon said, walking to Arya, then wrapping his arms around her. "As long as I am here, you shall stay secure?"

Arya slowly smiled, resting her head on Eragon's sternum. "I could not live without you."

"Aye. Even I have someone I can't live without."

"Saphira?"

"One more."

"Who?"

"She is..." Eragon traced back to the fortune Angela told him. He smiled at the thought. "Well, 'she is of noble birth and heritage. She is... powerful, wise, and beautiful beyond compare.'"

"Sounds like you both had rehearsed that and that person is very special to you."

"She is," Eragon sighed. "I think we should return to bed. Tomorrow is a long day for both of us." Arya dipped her head as they walked back to Eragon's tree.

* * *

_Shadows poured from the ground, all concentrated from the tallest spire of Uru'baen. The clouds swirled around that spire like a maddening hurricane. A evil laugh came from the depths from the castle._

"_Hahaha... so, our Rider finally joins us..."_

_The red image of Thorn appeared from the side of the castle, Zar'roc flashing from Murtagh's hand. The red dragon gave a piercing shriek as a jet of flame emitted from the depths of his mouth._

"_There is no way to defeat us," Galbatorix's voice boomed from Murtagh. "I have infinite power... There is no purpose in challenging me. Otherwise, you wish to die a martyr?"_

_"Get out of my head!" the real Murtagh screamed, Galbatorix's voice unheard. "You interrupt my battle with an elder and now you wish to do that with my brother? NEVER!"_

_Suddenly, Murtagh convulsed. He gave a deafening scream as he gripped his head, fingernails digging into his hair. In the confusion, Murtagh fell off the saddle of Thorn. Falling toward his doom at every second, Thorn alarmingly sped toward Murtagh. But the red dragon flew to slow, missing Murtagh's armored tunic by a hair's breadth._

_A flash of blue sped toward the falling Rider, gripping his waist area with her front claws. The blue dragon, Saphira, landed, setting down the unconscious Murtagh, then confronting the castle and ejecting a burst to flame.

* * *

_

_A never ending scene of red tunics was the only thing visible in my mind. Nothing was a different color, except for red... gray. Crimson pools of blood have begun to accumulate on the stone floor. Any boot stepping in them would be marked with a bloody boot print._

_The soldiers hastily charged the men behind me, and when my sword scored a man, it beamed with bloody delight, as if excitement in the fray made it happy... gloriously happy. As the men pooled form surrounding chambers, Brisingr's hue began to change into a dull red. I wiped the blade of the blade against a surprised soldier, then knocked him out by hitting him with the back of the sword's pommel._

* * *

_My arms had grown leaden from jamming at each others' swords. The dark king kept a smug face as he barraged me with the violet sword he carried in his hands. A gust of wind blew over us as flashes of blue and black soared in the sky, assaulting each other with fang, claw, and flame._

_I could sense it in him. While he lacked the elves' constitution, he was growing weary. Only to survive a few minutes and I would have him. My mind grew used to the defensive stance, while the king swung his sword with ferocity, showing me how actually outclassed I was. Roran would last five seconds, Brom... maybe a minute, Murtagh, maybe about twelve, Durza after his resurrection, he would last a while. To Vanír, about twenty minutes. Before The Blood-oath Celebration, I would guess fifteen._

_But since I became half-breed, I would be able to last a bit more than forty-five minutes. It was nearing the forty minute mark, because of the way my arms were burning and the way my mouth was dry. The elves had just in time sealed his connection to the Eldunarí hostages he had collected, and so, he was without power._

_After three minutes, he slipped one slash, and I mercilessly tried to chop his hand off. Only the last digit of his little finger came loose, and Galbatorix howled in pain. His eyes burned with hatred as he lanced his sword in a stabbing motion. It grazed my side, where it burned as if someone branded me with a pair of hot iron claws. The wound taxed me like it was a wound from the Ra'zac. My strength was failing... I could barely think. A clink of metal on stone indicated that I dropped my sword. Galbatorix sneered as if tasting victory once again. My mind was too clouded to think. Then, it all happened at once._

_**SPOILER ALERT!  
SPOILER ALERT!  
SPOILER ALERT!**  
Flashes from past experiences flooded into my mind: First, the stumbling of Saphira's egg, then it hatching. Brom's offer to accompany me on a journey. Yaz'uac and my first spell. Angela's fortune and Solembum's advice. Teirm. Murtagh. __Brom's death. __Arya's rescue. The Hadarac Desert. At the gates of the Varden. Farthen Dûr. Blessing of a child. The battle of Farthen Dûr. The killing of Durza. Ajihad's death and precession. Nasuada being leader of the Varden. Tarnag. Ceris. Ellésmera. Princess Arya. Oromis and Glaedr. Vanír. Arya's fairth. The Agaetí Blodhren. Leaving for the Varden. The fight on the Burning Plains. Hrothgar's death. Murtagh becoming my enemy and brother. Meeting up with Roran. Helgrind. Killing the Ra'zac and Sloan's sentence. Running to Eastcroft and meeting Arya there. Running together back to the Varden and killing the soldiers of Galbatorix. Meeting the spirits. Return to the Varden camp. Murtagh's second battle. Roran's marriage with Katrina. Leaving for Farthen Dûr. Bregan Hold. Being attacked by Az Sweldn rak Anhûin. The exile of Vermûnd. Orik being Grimstznborith. Leaving for Ellésmera. The revelation of Brom being my father. The request for a sword from Rhunön. The Menoa Tree and her wish. The bringing of the brightsteel and its forging. __The Eldunarí. __The way to Feinster. Oromis' and Glaedr's deaths. The defeat of Varaug. (Omitted due to lack of information on the Fourth Book) The storming of the castle, disarming a century's worth of traps. The transporting of the __Eldunarí. _And finally, Arya fighting alongside me while fighting Galbatorix's men.  
_**End Spoiler**_

___Renew vigor coursed through my limbs as the wound closed by itself, and I barked, "Gath iet sverd medh lam iet!" Brisingr flew into my hand as it blocked Galbatorix's downward slash with a few centimeters to spare. Tilting Brisingr, I rolled the other way, Galbatorix's sword crashing to the ground. We strafed away from each other. Then, we both made the final attack, charging each other with increased voice. One second-twenty feet. Two seconds-fifteen. Three seconds-ten. Five-almost upon each other..._

"_BRISINGR!"_

_Brisingr burst into flames, giving an eerie blue hue to every corner of the throne room. At the last millisecond, I slipped my blade under his violet blade, twisting, making loose his grip to the sword; sweat had accumulated on his palms; and the sword flew, landing on the throne seat standing up, cracking the stone._

_The king fell to his knees as Brisingr shined as the flames licked the brightsteel blade, then diminishing into air. A crash was heard about five yards away, Saphira holding a front claw at Shruikan's throat. With the bark of "malthinae," Galbatorix could no longer move or speak. His mouth moved, forming random words, eyebrows meeting as frustration clung to him as he could not perform his counter-spell. His lips formed the word "Murtagh," but no avail._

_The wooden doors boomed open, Murtagh standing at the doorway. His eyes no longer burned with the anger and hatred when he was under the spell of Galbatorix's, and merely walked to the king's side, plunging Zar'roc in the ground next to the king's head. At that time, Nasuada, Nar Garzhvog, King Orrin, Islanzadí Drottning, and Grimstznborith Orik, walking in unison into the throne room._

"_Galbatorix," Orrin said. "You have wrought havoc to the once peaceful land the Riders created. For this, you will be stripped of your power and be executed." The image of Brom shone into existence, his blue eyes shining with mercy._

"_Galbatorix," he solemnly said. "Your dragon's death was the cause of your own fault, not the Elder's. You willingly went to that faraway island, thinking your new powers would save you. There is fault in blaming someone. Unless he has invoked your true name, you are at fault." Brom shook his head. "You deserve death more over everything else." Then Brom disappeared._

_I looked at my half-brother, Murtagh looking in my direction respectively. They turned to the leaders of the Varden, Urgals, Surda, Elves, and Dwarfs. The five nodded, from left to right, showing proper execution._

"_I, Eragon Shadeslayer, also known as Eragon Bromsson, take trials by execution." I lifted the ring of Brom, Aren, the yäwe symbol reflecting in Galbatorix's eyes. "As does my father, Brom. Deyja, könungr súnda."_

_A deathly bolt of blue light emanated from the sapphire, dispersing into minor stretches of lightning, encasing Galbatorix in a coffin of energy. The lightning pulsed, flashing a blinding light, and heat blasted into every corner of the room, two different dragon shrieks filling the air._

_When the light died down, only a pile of Galbatorix's armor was left on the floor. A chorus of melded joy and sorrow filled the air, like the sound of the howling wind and gurgling brook in the same place._

_My name changed that day. Eragon Son of None, to Eragon Shadeslayer. Eragon Morzansson. Eragon, Bane of the Ra'zac. Eragon Bromsson. Eragon, Death to Galbatorix... the dark king.

* * *

_

"Eragon."

The voice sounded like a half remembered melody. _I know that voice..._

"Eragon, wake up."

To good of a dream...

"_BARZÛL, ERAGON WAKE UP!"_

Eragon jolted upward in bed at the command. He found his lips moistened. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Murtagh staring at him dumbly. He looked forward, finding two emerald eyes staring at him. He looked down at his mouth and saw his mouth touching Arya's.

"Saw-ree?" Eragon said, his voice muffled. Arya shrugged. Murtagh, apparently, wolf-whistled.

"Ar-ya... can't mo-ove... ma ye playse ge' off me?" Eragon said, still muffled. Arya withdrew from Eragon.

"I was thinking of yelling in your ear if you didn't wake up."

"Profanity is the key?" Eragon asked dumbly. Murtagh's eye twitched. Arya gave him a good slap across the face, saying, "Murtagh, you can get that out of your head. That wasn't even a real kiss."

"Wow," he said. "You guys actually kissed before?" Arya face-palmed.

"Wow," Eragon said, doing his best to mimic Murtagh's voice. "Your true name sure did change." Murtagh scowled.

"Come on, Eragon," Arya said as she left. "The mind test is about to take place." Eragon nodded and hastily got dressed in his tunic. Outside the window was Saphira, her scales reflecting the dazzling light, nearing blinding Eragon. _Did you enjoy it?_

_What?_

_The mutual contact between you two._

_Kissing?_

_Yes. _Saphira had a hint of amusement in her voice.

Eragon stared at Saphira. _What, are you jealous that such a coincidence happened? That I accidentally kissed Arya? That you weren't able to have Glaedr return love to you?_

Saphira growled. _Do not presume such inadequate things to me._

_And you are saying mutual attractions are inadequate?_

_I find it hard to argue with you._

_And I find it inescapable to stop arguing with you._

The discussion ended there. Eragon exited the tree with the Belt of Beloth the Wise on his waist, Brisingr in its scabbard, Gannel's hammer necklace on his neck, Aren on his finger.

Queen Islanzadí stood near the trunk of the Menoa Tree, while Arya was, Eragon was thinking, changing into the appropriate clothing. He turned his head, looking over to Islanzadí's direction, where Arya, in her light green raiment, was walking to her mother's side. Blagden was perched on the Queen's shoulder

"Now begins our second event. Our event shall start with the victors from yesterday's event. As the inauguration continues, our participants shall decrease by half." Eragon wondered how many tests would there be to have, until two final participants.

"We start with the Mind event. Whoever is able to break their opponent's mind and have them..." Islanzadí turned to Arya and discussed something silently. After nodding approval, she said, "... have them give their blade to the victor. These are the requisites as to... moving on to the next task. Now, leave to your respective opponents..." And Islanzadí started calling out pairs of names.

Eragon left with another elf whom he did not recognize, and once Blagden croaked, "Wyrda," the elf took advantage of Eragon's distractions and assaulted with his mind. Eragon was left with the feeling of an icy dagger in his mind, then summoned up an image that so vividly remained in his mind: The Dream at Morzan's Castle.

As the images played back and forth, the elf was lost in a sea of seemingly real memories, and Eragon took that advantage, that as Morzan was encircled by the spirits, he launched an attack in the guise of a spirit, and crashed through the elf's barrier.

_Give me your sword._

In Eragon's real eye, the elf gritted his teeth as he walked up to Eragon, unsheathed his sword, and handed Eragon the narrow blade, hilt toward Eragon, and waited. Eragon gripped the hilt as the elf released the sword.

Eragon then looked around, seeing that some had already finished breaking their opponent. Eragon walked up to Islanzadí, presenting the sword. She inspected it, then nodded, dismissing Eragon.

He glanced around, finding Vanír in mental combat with his opponent. His eyes wandered around aimlessly in their sockets. Eragon watched as Vanír's opponent have a gasp as he slowly drew his sword and presented it to Vanír, hilt first. Vanír took the sword, and his mental grip vanished as his opponent dropped to his knees.

"How did you fare?" Vanír asked as he approached Eragon.

"I did good. My opponent got me by surprise when Blagden shouted 'Wyrda.'"

"My opponent did the same, but I put him in a leash." Vanír smiled. "Leash."

"I see..." Eragon said, slightly amused.

"Leash," Vanír insisted. "Get it?"

Eragon frowned. "Not really. I don't understand what most of these contests are supposed to accomplish."

"To select an Elven King," Vanír explained, "we have to undergo a series of events, each testing physical and mental endurance. If a king is unable to lead, how shall his subordinates follow?"

"True," Eragon commented.

"And, if a king is so easy to defeat, what is the point of having a king? We must train and search for the most powerful, if not, wisest King for us." Vanír's eyes flashed. "I think that you'd make an excellent king."

"No," Eragon said, "I told you before, Alagäesia needs not another tyrant king. I'd be terrible, and even though I am a good choice, I can't be king, and even less, it is hard for me to address even a small number of individuals."

Vanír smiled, "Stage fright, eh? Think you'll say something wrong?"

"I think, never thought much about it."

Murtagh came up to Eragon, putting a hand on his shoulder. "Eragon, We need a talk."

"Excuse me Vanír," Eragon apologized as he was taken away by his half-brother.

"What is it?" Eragon asked.

Murtagh's eyes closed to slits. "Is it me or is Arya seeing you more often?"

"I don't know. She has been looking for me for quite some time."

"Yes, I find it awkward that Arya wanted to sleep in the same tree as you."

Eragon shifted his feet. Even though he had been standing for only a few seconds, he grew uncomfortable. "I don't know why she acts like this," he finally blurted out.

"And I find it hard for her to wake you up. She did have the power to tell me to wake you up. I don't know either..." Murtagh then looked back at Islanzadí's direction, looking at Arya.

"You're not gonna ask me for a mind duel, are you?"

"Sorry, no," Murtagh answered. "You wanted one?"

"No, it's just that you wanted to cross swords yesterday. Oh, and that makes me sort of want to speak with Glaedr."

"Glaedr?"

"The golden dragon whom Galbatorix killed."

"Oh, him... wait, you have his..."

"Eldunarí, yes."

"Hmm... I don't know why he would give you his Eldunarí. It's too precious, isn't it?"

"Teacher passing a skill to the student? Besides, we didn't finish our training because Thorn got to hatch for you." Thorn emerged from the green tree and snorted, smoke billowing from his nostrils.

"Greetings Thorn," Eragon said. "How are you today?"

_Everything is going along fine. I don't find many things to do here._

"Are you sure you don't want to fly about with Saphira? I'm sure she would like to have a flight or two."

_She doesn't want to. I just asked her._

"Oh, I see. Anyway, do you feel any different?"

_Other than that golden dragon biting off my tail by three feet?_

"Sure."

_I feel strange, as if I don't feel like my original self. I find myself bigger than how I am supposed to. I am but a year old._

"Oh, you will get used to it."

_I am glad that you killed Galabtrox... Gladatorx... how the heck to you say his name?_

"Galbatorix?" Murtagh suggested.

_Thank you, Murtagh. I sometimes wonder why Galbatorix chose such a weird and long name. I can't even say it properly._

"Galbatorix," Eragon simply said.

Thorn retreated behind the shrubbery and left the two Riders by themselves. "Thorn seems uninterested in rebuilding his race."

"Never seen a pair of dragons mating," Murtagh mumbled. "Besides, I think Saphira would take a liking to the green egg, calling it Greenie for now, because I have a feeling it may be bonded to her."

Eragon stood silent for a while before going into the tree. He took the pack under his bed, unbuckled it, and let the golden stone inside roll out.

_Glaedr's Eldunarí..._ Eragon thought. He projected his thoughts into the egg and concentrated deeply before saying a word: _Glaedr-ebrithil._

A dull rumbling sounded in Eragon's ears as the stone glowed. _You called me, hatchling?_

_Yes, Glaedr-ebrithil._

_What is it you need?_

_I...want to know if it is possible to speak with the dead._

Silence filled the room. _Why have you asked this?_

_I, in my dreams, feel as if I communicated with Brom. I feel as if he wants to speak to me again. Also, dreams are coming to me so vividly that I am living them, some others, again._

_Hmm... this is more harder than giving you my Eldunarí._ Glaedr seemed to sigh due to the sudden decrease in color of his Eldunarí. _Okay, here is how you say the spell..._

After a few minutes of repeating the spell over and over, Eragon finally gotten the hang of it. _Thank you, Glaedr-elda._

_Eragon. I am proud of you that you have made Galbatorix deceased. I thank you for exacting revenge._

_I promise to continue doing what is right. Atra ilerneo medh eka du freohr?_

_Yes. You pronounced it quite accurately. Good work..._ Glaedr's Eldunarí faded into its settled dull-ish yellow color as he brooded on something intelligible.

Eragon retreated to the water bowl on the nightstand, and said, "Waíse soriûs." Be still. The water smoothed like a sheet of liquid metal. Eragon said the words of scrying, then the incantation for speaking with the other dimension. The magic took its toll, Eragon feeling numb for a few seconds. Then, he regained control as he stared at the water bowl.

Slowly, but surely, the image of Brom appeared. His silver hair was shining by a invisible light. He stared right at Eragon. "You have finally contacted me," he said, the words sounding like a flowing brook. "I have waited when you would want to speak to me."

"You were waiting for me?" Eragon asked dumbly.

"Yes. And I wish we have the time, because this will take some time. Remember, this spell will not last very long, so only take pauses when the time comes, and only ask questions that one will ponder about. The time goes by like sand in an hourglass."

* * *

I hope you have enjoyed this chapter. This chapter has been prefabricated, so be sure to spot minimal errors, or if any; report them via review. As this is a first Fanfiction, please no flames. Constructive criticism, apparently, is allowed.

Also, I am sorry for not making any kind of Ancient Language Dictionary. I will put phrases in my profile page, along with its translation, as well as the chapter it is located in. I hope this may help...


	4. A Moment of Silence

**Disclaimer: I allowed my story get deleted. Apparently, that is my fault. And the fault of this story is mine. It does not belong to me, but it belongs to a guy who goes by CP. Weird, huh? I own nothing about this story. Oh, and did I say this Chapter would be shortened? Oh, and did I say most of the stuff here isn't mine? Well, all of this Chapter isn't mine. That is why this is such a long disclaimer. Basically saying, "I own nothing."**

**Oh, I also wanted to say... sorry for the delay. It took a while to come back to Fanfiction (dot) net, especially after that extremely weird dream about Code Geass (and don't get me started on that, maybe I'll write a Fanfiction about _that_). Then again, here is Chapter 3, breaking what I said in the Author's Note, only Eragon and Brom speaking about stuff. A lot of silences, hence the chapter name.**

**Again, sorry for the delay. Enjoy your 1600 word estimate story, as this is all I have at this point.**

* * *

Chapter 3: A Moment of Silence

Eragon waited as Brom stared at him through the water bowl. "What are you waiting for, boy?" Brom asked. "We haven't time for waiting."

"Sorry," Eragon said, "I am just thinking on what I am to ask about."

Brom sighed. "How about those things about five years ago? New advanced dragon battle tactics? Breathtaking aerial desciptions? How about those..."

"I think that is off topic," Eragon stated. "I want to ask, is it possible to speak with other through a dream?"

Brom nodded his head. "Yes. I see you remember that. I was hoping you did, and apparently so. Yes, you may be able to speak to one another through dreaming, only if the person is also thinking about you. It is very rare for someone very close would think about a relative, although it has happened in the past. Many people had sought others by this, but few have been successful, since people spontaneously dream. One could want to dream about him being the killer of Galbatorix, then ended up cultivating an orange farm."

"Can you make a spell to do so?"

"Eragon," Brom said in firm tone. "Remember one of those spells that can kill you? That is one of them. It would take years and years to dream about a certain thing."

Eragon was silent again as he pondered about his next question. "Did you ever think about why you stayed in Carvahall?" The two were in complete silence for a minute.

Finally, Brom sighed. "No, I have never thought about it." He dipped his head. "I always thought about staying with my only son. But I never thought that fifteen years could be so long and painful without showing him his true identity. I made myself sore and low-tempered, to hide the fact that you were my son, and through that, I was your father.

"Also, I lived by you to protect you, but thanks to Garrow, insisting that he live so far away from Carvahall, I really wasn't near you as I thought. And, I told Selena to find a relative in some corner of the Empire if Morzan would ever find out about her not obeying every order of his." Brom choked back a sob, but his voice turned shaky. "I was only hours away from reaching her at Morzan's Castle, but all too late. I searched and searched for any sort of spark that glowed like her's, and found you near Carvahall.

"And finally, in fifteen years that I have lived by you, I know now, that the Dragon Riders will live on, by seeing another gedwëy ignasia... and when you first used magic..." Brom's eyes turned dreamy as he looked upwards. "I knew that you would free the original Empire from Galbatorix's grasp."

Eragon sighed. His father actually thought highly of him, when he would say, "That was a very dangerous thing to do, boy!" Brom had actually meant, "Don't do it again, until you are stronger. There is nothing more tragic than seeing a Rider died because he was careless."

"How did you not go mad when Saphira died?" Eragon asked.

Brom chuckled under his breath. "I was stubborn at times. I was too stubborn to know that Saphira died. I thought I could always bring her back, but under circumstances, I know I couldn't. And then I lost my sword. Ahh... I miss that light-blue hue... and your Saphira. She brings back some of the most joyful memories..."

At this point, Eragon supposedly thought Brom was rambling.

"Oh, Saphira... Your name has brought peace to Alagäesia... I am proud to have become your Rider..."

Yep. Eragon definitely thought Brom was rambling.

"You did not answer my real question?" Eragon said.

Brom snapped back to reality. "Oh, right. Not anyone can just have their partner die and just still be happy at that instant. Everyone goes through a bit of mourning, whether it be a few hours or to a large extent of three years. Some people need someone or something to blame on, and that doesn't even seem right. I blamed Morzan because it was his fault for helping Galbatorix, and that allowed my dragon to die.

"Once your dragon dies, you have to endure that unwholesomeness for as long as it persists. It is not easy, yet it allows you to go on with life. There is nothing much more heartbreaking than one linked with... no, that doesn't go along with this discussion. Persisting... extent of years... oh, yes. You have to put your mind on something else."

"That makes absolutely no sense."

"But it helps." Brom sighed as he cursed that his pipe was not with him. "Anything else?"

Eragon thought about it. He knew of his being in Carvahall. He knew how Brom did not go mad. What was next...?

"Time is short..." Brom warned.

Eragon pondered for another half-minute and asked. "Do you know my True Name?"

"No." Brom's answer was quick and abrupt.

"Can you tell me my true name?"

"I can."

"Will you?"

Brom sighed sharply. "Is it of much importance?"

"I spoke to the Rock of Kuthian about it."

"Who told you of your True Name?"

"Arya," Eragon hesitantly said.

Silence.

"Did it work?" Brom asked.

"Yes."

Silence.

"What did you say your True Name was?" Brom finally asked.

"(Taken from justtestingmyboundaries' A New Age) It was... Edoc'sil Hjuarta abr Draumar Istalri."

"Who did you call?" Brom then asked.

"My mother."

Silence.

"What did she say?"

"(Not taken from justtestingmyboundaries' A New Age) She told me of a secret passageway in Urû'baen. She also told me the locations of the majority of Galbatorix's century-worth of traps. And the password to many passageways."

_Easy to understand,_ Eragon thought._ They were all ironically 'Jarnünvosk.'_

"Did she say anything else?" Brom inquired.

"Well..." Eragon's voice trailed off. "She died..."

Brom's eyes widened.

"(Taken from justtestingmyboundaries' A New Age) She died from saving Murtagh from his back. She transferred that pain into herself and died a few hours later."

"And hours before I got there. I could have been faster... Only if I was..."

Eragon's eyes brightened. "You can always blame Morzan. He's the one who hacked open Murtagh's back."

"That's right..." Brom nodded his head. "That is everything, right?"

"I believe so. I just wonder what my _real_ True Name is."

"Edoc'sil Hjuarta abr Draumar Istalri was your True Name at that moment. Now that you killed Galbatorix, it may have not changed yet. The Gray Folk could have made mistakes too. Same as us humans. Our True Names are like dandelion seeds in the wind. They can always change, but not quite at times." Brom smiled. "At least you're starting to use your head."

"_That is why we are born,_" Eragon quoted, "_with brains in our heads, not rocks._"

Brom chuckled. "That is right, my son. If there are any more smart remarks you'd like to say, speak fast. I don't know how long this spell can hold, but probably measured in seconds."

Eragon thought about his next remark. He opened his mouth after a few seconds and asked, "Can you use the Ancient Language without meaning to and still use the spell?"

No answer.

"Brom? Dad? Father?" Eragon called.

No answer.

Eragon peered into the bowl. It showed his own reflection, also the bottom of the wooden container. Eragon's mouth dropped open. His link had broken when he wasn't looking.

"Oh, come on!"


	5. The Place Where U Last Lived

**Disclaimer: Nope, I still don't own anything. I never have. Especially not the Inheritance Cycle, although I wish I did. I could do much with the amount of money I had...**

**Eragon: Hey, can we get along with the story?**

**Arya: Yes. I'd love another scene with me kissing Eragon randomly.**

**Eragon: [looks at Arya shockingly, as if about to faint]**

**1caiser: Hey, how'd you two get in here? I mean, like, you guys aren't supposed to be in the Disclaimer!**

**Saphira: _Now that we are, what are you going to do about it?_**

**1caiser: Oh, right. I am going to write you all out of here.**

**Eragon: [forces his mind toward 1caiser] Oh no, you don't...**

**1caiser: You can't come into my mind... futility comes after that happens [shoves up radiation shield wall around conscience]... try it. I dare you. [:D]**

**Eragon: Oh, wow... not fair. [frowns]**

**1caiser: Roll the story line!**

**Eragon: HE STILL DOESN'T OWN ANYTHING...!

* * *

**

Chapter 4: The Place Where You Last Lived

A knock on the door roused Eragon from his trance at trying to reconnect with the dead. Murtagh popped his head through the threshold, and walked inside. "Eragon," he said, after closing the door. He looked suspiciously around the house.

"What is it, Murtagh? Is someone looking for you?"

"No," Murtagh said, turning to a satisfied expression before plopping down onto his sleeping area. "But Arya apparently is looking for you."

Eragon raised an eyebrow. Sighing, he said, "I wonder when she is not."

"Why?" Murtagh asked, surprised that Eragon protested Arya's company. "I thought you actually liked her."

"She..." Eragon trailed off. "Arya..."

"Cat got your tongue?" Murtagh asked, grinning for a second.

"Eragon frowned as he reluctantly got up and exited through the door. "Looks like love's in the air..." Murtagh said. "Wonder when it's my chance..."

* * *

Eragon made his way through the colorful walls of the Tialdarí Hall. Even though it was only two days since he had been to Arya's room, he still had trouble navigating through the building. On one occasion, he walked in the circular hall of rooms, then realizing that he had done that, and so, walked into a different hall, in which he thought was the actual hall.

_It did say House Drötting,_ Eragon thought. _So I must be going in the right direction._

An oak door stood in Eragon's path, just half-a-minute later. He tentatively raised a fist to knock, hesitated, then knocked with three sharp raps. Eragon cursed himself for hesitating, but put it aside as Arya opened the door. She was dressed in her forest green dress, not tiara on her head, no pendant... just an original looking elf. Just like when Eragon first saw her.

"Atra esterní ono thelduin, Arya Dröttningu," Eragon said, with a slight bow. He had to remember the greetings.

Arya smiled as she said, "Atra du evarínya ono varda. Come. Have a seat."

_Hope it's nothing to drastic..._ Eragon thought. _Just a talk... just a friendly talk..._

"Why have you called me?" Eragon asked cautiously.

Arya's face fell as she pursed her lips. "Well, this is regarding things _outside_ Ellésmera."

"What happened?"

"Galbatorix is not very dead as you think he is."

"What?" Eragon said. "He is just dust scattered across the roads now. Surely he cannot be alive still."

"No, I mean, his _spirit_.

"Please clarify."

Arya took a deep breath as she said, "Galbatorix has soldiers amassing near Dras-Leona, near Helgrind. Apparently, the whole religion regarding Helgrind was destroyed, upon command by the conspirators. They are planning on starting a rebellion against the entire human, elven, and dwarven nations."

Eragon frowned. These were probably men that were either bound to doing Galbatorix's will; protecting him, or either they actually supported the king himself. _When must this bloodshed cease?_

"What of the festival?" Eragon asked.

"Queen Islanzadí opposes my idea of having me choose a king, probably that because if a king was not tested first, then how shall we know? He could be hiding behind a mask, for all we know."

"True," Eragon said, "but what shall happen to the festival? Are we to finish it or postpone it?"

"We are going to postpone the festival," Arya said ruefully. "Besides, it would just be faster for you to trail past Vanír and the others."

"And me be king? No."

"Why not?" Arya asked.

_She does not know of my fortune... right..._

"What are we supposed to do now?" Eragon asked.

"You," Arya said, "have two options. One, I could send you into battle with a die-trying mission to stop this rebellion... or I could have you see your cousin in Carvahall."

"Die-trying?" Eragon said, appalled. "Why would you send me into battle? Saphira would rip you apart if she knew you sent me on that forsaken mission."

"Then you will see to Roran?" Arya asked, raising a slanted eyebrow. "He's been at Carvahall for some time now."

_You should go meet him at our farm. _Garrow's voice echoed from his dream two nights before.

"I guess..." Eragon decided, "that giving a visit to my cousin would be nice."

"Great," Arya said. "When shall you set out?"

"In an hour, maybe. Depends."

Arya nodded as Eragon exited Arya's room, leaving the scent of crushed pine needles...

* * *

"Where are you going?" Murtagh asked Eragon as he started stuffing clothes in a knapsack.

"Carvahall."

"Why?"

"To see my cousin."

"I thought Carvahall was destroyed."

Eragon turned around and faced Murtagh. "When do you not have any questions?"

Murtagh grinned and simply said, "I always have questions. Is it not right to have any?"

Eragon sighed as he buckled the pack shut. He was about to exit until Murtagh piped up with another question. "Can I come?"

Eragon sighed again as she answered, "Err, don't you know that Roran still wants to kill you?"

"Nope. He's just my cousin, isn't he?"

Eragon rolled his eyes. "Fine, you may come... not my fault when you wake up, you see him with a hammer in his hand, attempting to kill you."

"Don't worry," Murtagh reassured. "I won't blame you."

"Saphira, are we ready?" Eragon called.

_I guess I was born ready,_ Saphira replied form behind the tree.

"Does Thorn want to come?"

_I have not asked him. Maybe you should leave that task to Murtagh._

The red dragon was on the other side of the tree, eyes closed. His back rose and fell steadily as he napped. Murtagh emerged from the tree and slowly tapped Thorn on the shoulder.

Thorn stirred, his tail swished across the grass, but did not wake up.

Murtagh frowned and tapped Thorn on the shoulder again. This time, Thorn's lids flew open, pinned Murtagh down on the ground with his left paw, and lifted his right paw inches from Murtagh's face, all within two seconds. Eragon and Saphira were amazed at Thorn's ferocity.

_Oh, it's you._ Thorn lifted his paw off Murtagh, assumed his previous position, and continued to sleep.

"Thorn, could you wake up for just a minute?" Murtagh asked.

A red eye opened. _No._

"Why not?"

_Because you are asking me to go somewhere, in which may throw me into more peril than we were before._

"At least he's half right," Eragon muttered.

"Thorn," Murtagh said. "You do realize that staying here and sleeping is bad for you, right?"

_So? What difference does that make? We don't have any Gallatirick to worry about._

"His name is Galbatorix."

_You two-legs are the same. I don't care what's his name, or what's her name, or who the heck is that boy standing there. I only want to be undisturbed. Besides, your minute has passed._ With a roll of Thorn's eye, it closed.

_I told you he doesn't want to do anything, _Saphira stated.

Murtagh ignored her comment and slung a saddle over Thorn's back, tied his saddlebags and whispered, "Vakna."

Thorn' eyes jolted open as he repeated the same maneuver when Murtagh woke him up the first time.

_Seriously, Murtagh,_ Thorn said. _Why are you in such a hurry. Now that you woke me up with your magic, I cannot go back to sleep. Thanks a lot._ Thorn lifted his paw off Murtagh.

"We're gonna go to a village called Carvahall."

_Why?_

"We are going to meet Eragon's cousin."

_The last time I saw him, he had a hammer and nearly crushed my tail._

"This time, it's different. We are going to be friendly to him, and he'll probably do the same with me. Besides, he's my cousin."

_What do I get out of this?_

Eragon shifted uneasily as Murtagh and Thorn struggled to meet negotiations. _This may take some time._

_True,_ Saphira replied. _Thorn is very defiant nowadays..._

"C'mon. Just lying around here won't help you. If you don't come, I'll leave with Saphira. And you'll be alone. Here in the streaming of elves. The first you will destroy if I somehow get killed."

_That is fine with me,_ Thorn said. _At least I will be remembered from destroying a race of Alagäesia._

_Thorn,_ Saphira snorted. _You may as well had destroyed Galbatorix's castle brick by brick if I had allowed Murtagh to fall of a massive concussion to literally cleave his skull in two. Instead of a race, you'd destroy not only Galbatorix, but the entire Varden as well. I suggest you come with us. _

Thorn growled as a column of smoke rose from between his teeth. _Fine. I can't believe I have to be fed up with flying so far again._

"It does you good that you can fly for a reason that is not fighting," Murtagh pointed out.

"Although the next battle is not a long ways off..." Eragon muttered.

_What?_ Thorn asked.

"Oh, nothing."

Murtagh hopped onto Thorn's back in a single bound, which annoyed Eragon. It was one of Galbatorix's dark spells that augmented Murtagh's abilities to match those of an elf, with the lack of the pointed ears. Or the precise point of the ears. Eragon dismissed the thought and jumped onto Saphira's back.

"Let's go!" Murtagh said. A wave of turbulence whipped Eragon's face as he broke the ground's atmosphere.

The two Riders were about five hundred feet off the ground, headed west toward Carvahall. The trees quickly passed from under them, spots bare of leaves. This marked the time when Ceunonians, the people of Ceunon, cut down the trees from Du Weldenvarden. A minute later, the village which marked Ceunon appeared. Scaffolds were raised on a few houses, marking the rage the elves had against the supporters of Galbatorix.

_Murtagh,_ Thorn said_, I am going to fall back asleep if you keep up this silence. Perhaps your spell is wearing off._

"Riddles," Murtagh replied. "Thirty horses on a red hill. First they champ, then they stamp, and they were all still. What are we?"

_Teeth,_ Saphira said, rolling her eyes. _I heard the elves have a game of riddles on the first day of the Festival._

Murtagh frowned as Saphira said her riddle. _I__ am always hungry, I must be fed. The finger I lick will soon turn red._

"Flame?" Murtagh guessed after a few seconds.

_Seems like you know all of these,_ Saphira retorted. _No use of playing riddles, Thorn, since your Rider knows all of them._

"Galbatorix knows of harder ones," Murtagh said defensively.

"That's because he has been ruling for nearly a hundred years," Eragon said.

Murtagh frowned as he spat out, "Until I am measured, I am not known, yet how you miss me when I have flown."

Silence enveloped the party. Thorn's eyes drooped, then snapped back open when Eragon answered time.

"A box without hinges, key, nor lid, yet inside golden treasure is hid."

Murtagh scratched his head, in doing so, a wave of turbulence hit him, making Thorn spiral a three-sixty in Murtagh's direction to keep Murtagh from falling.

_Sorry,_ Thorn apologized. _Involuntary movement. Carry on thinking. _Eragon was surprised at how calm Thorn was. Seemed like Indlvarn was not for him.

"Treasure..." Murtagh thought. "Life? No... How 'bout an egg?"

Eragon sighed. "You got it. Again."

"Galbatorix liked this one. He stumped me with this riddle the last time we played it."

"Why did you do it?" Eragon asked. "Play riddles, I mean."

"Got bored," Murtagh laughed. "What has roots that nobody sees, is taller than trees, up, up it goes, but yet it never grows."

_The mountains,_ Thorn said, bored. _If you were only paying attention, you should see Galbatorix look around before he calls out a riddle. I saw his looking at the Beors before he said that._

_I never was, yet always will be. I am never seen, yet always come. I can carry nothing, yet hold much for some._

"Tomorrow," Eragon said. "Much very easy."

_I was about to say an infant,_ Saphira said.

Eragon smiled as he said proudly, "Maybe this should end this game. Seems to me we are almost there.

"Who makes it has no need of it. Who buys it has no use for it. Who uses it has no knowledge of it."

Everyone else was stumped. At one point, Murtagh opened his mouth to speak, but reconsidered before going back to thinking. A few minutes later, Eragon recognized the land, the land he had never set foot on for a year. The town of Carvahall was still out of sight though, since the Ra'zac razed the village to the ground, attempting to get to Roran. A column of smoke rose over the hills, making either a campfire, barbecue, or a farm. Eragon's keen eyesight located the source of the ash trail to the chimney of... a newly made farm.

Euphoria quickly seeped into Eragon, at the thought of meeting his cousin since the past few months at Urû'baen. And the arrival of his nephew or niece.

* * *

Roran was in the fields, tending the new batch of barley that was set into the ground the earlier month. The land had not changed since he was driven from his homeland.

It was four months ago since he had counted about four hundred deceases to Galbatorix's army. As he raked the soil, he felt as if he were still crushing skulls.

He had to get over it. And he had done so two months before. No longer did the killing haunt his days. All because of the birth of his daughter, Evrinya. He was a father now, and because of her, Roran was able to overcome the torment of his former self.

The dull buzzing of a low bird's flap roused Roran from his concentration, his singing to the plants. The door into the house clacked open as Katrina looked into the sky. Roran glimpsed gleam of blue against the afternoon sky. In addition, he saw another color. Red. Nostalgia clung to Roran like a terrible sin. He dropped his rake, and ran into the barn, hunting for his hammer.

* * *

"That's the farm, right?" Murtagh asked, pointing.

"Yes," Eragon said, "that is right."

_It has been so long since I was last here, _Saphira declared.

_And it's so small,_ Thorn said, disappointed.

Saphira let out a roar and a stream of blue fire as he neared Eragon's newly refurbished home. She dove sharply toward the ground, Thorn following a second later. Eragon couldn't resist shouting the "WHOO!" in his lungs, nothing could be more fun that having inertia pull you in, then back upright.

Once Eragon was only twenty feet above the ground, Saphira snapped her wings out, dramatically decelerating, then landing on the ground with a few bounds before stopping.

Thorn landed a second later, stopping the same time, but collapsing on his chest, panting heavily. Murtagh smiled as he undid the straps and jumped down Thorn's side. Eragon hopped off Saphira, expecting Roran.

Roran did come, but with his chain mail from the Retake of Urû'baen, his hammer in his hand. "What are doing with your armor on?" Eragon asked.

Roran grew angry as he thrust out his hammer at Thorn and Murtagh, snarling, "And I would bloody like to know why this... enemy... is at my farm! He is not coming to Brom's grave now is he?"

Murtagh grew fascinated. "GRAVE!" he exclaimed. "I got the answer to your riddle, Eragon! Ha!"

"He's a friend now," Eragon said.

"And I would like to know _why_ he is a friend. He interrupted my wedding back at the Burning Plains."

Murtagh appeared surprised now. "I interrupted your wedding?" he asked. "I am terribly sorry that happened, Roran Stronghammer." Murtagh tried to be as courteous as his mind could be, trying to have Roran hear his alias as honorable as possible. "As you can see, my True Name has changed, and therefore, I shall do you, or my half-brother, no harm at all."

_I can tell that is true, _Thorn said. _If my True Name doesn't bind me to Galbatorix's will, then my Rider had been as well._

"I still don't believe you," Roran said sternly.

"Eka malabra ono né haina. Atra nosu waisé fricaya," Murtagh took a while to sound out the words. Roran appeared unperturbed, still pointing his hammer at Murtagh. Experimentally, Roran swung his hammer at Murtagh's head, slowed the impact, yet Murtagh made no move to stop the attack. The hammer's head collided with Murtagh's head, no sound made except for the thud when Murtagh fell to the ground, clutching the place of contact.

"What was that for?" he demanded. "I say I didn't wanna hurt you and you smash me? Good thing I had prepared wards for me to lessen damage by crushing, too!"

_And are you stupid, Murtagh?_ Thorn said, craning his head so he could see Murtagh directly. _You allow someone to smash your head? Smart..._

Murtagh slowly got back to his feet, clutching the side of his head. He caught Eragon's shoulder to hoist himself up. "Please take this ringing out of my head. Feels like clones of your are bashing at my brain..."

Eragon rolled his eyes as Katrina walked up to the three men. Murtagh, apparently gotten over his head trauma, and shocked at another person, bowed lowly and said, "Greetings, fair lady. I believe you live with Roran Stronghammer?"

Katrina raised an eyebrow before nodding. "Yes, I believe I do."

"Hello, Katrina," Eragon said. "Long time no see."

"Yes, it is a shame I was taken in labor before we left Urû'baen. How are you?"

"He's competing to become King of Alagäesia!" Murtagh blurted. Roran and Katrina appeared surprised at that. "I mean, _elves_."

"Of course," Murtagh said. "Apparently, his opening speech will be tragic, since he can't even do much than offer a brief "hi" to the Varden, much less to all of Alagäesia."

Changing the subject, Eragon said, "Did you have your child yet? I'm sure he's somewhere around here."

"She, Eragon," Roran said, "She's a she."

"Oh. Sorry. May we see her?"

"We may as well go inside then," Katrina said. "I had a kettle of tea steeping, so we may talk over that. Come, come..."

* * *

**A/W: Thanks for all the reviews I had gotten, since I thought I would NOT do a good job with this Fic. Thanks. I would also like to thank Writer of the North for her help applying some elements to the story, including two of the riddles and Roran's child's name... although a fraction of it.**

**Again, thanks, sorry for the delay on this Chapter, and Read and Review. Oh, and another word... not Inheritance Cycle though...**

**No, wait. I have no words.**

**Eragon: Okay, story's over!**

**Me: OMG, Eragon, just get back to your seat. I can do this.**

**Eragon: No, make me.**

**Me: [sighing] Okay... Eragon Bromsson, also known as Edoc'sil Hjuarta abr Draumar Istalri, I order thee to return to thy seat, closeth thy mouth, and be annoying no more.**

**Eragon: [stunned, returns to seat, mouth shut tight]**

**Me: There we go! We should really get some security here... maybe some other-Inheritance Cycle elements...**

**Arya: What's the Inheritance Cycle?**

**Murtagh: A thing made by some guy who created us out of thoughts, then started telling stories about us, now making him one of the most famous guys in Life.**

**Me: You got it, Murtagh. Now I shall end this, giving Murtagh an amazing plot twist that will rock his world. Or even Thorn's. Yes, that's it... Okay, you know the drill... Read and Review.**

**Eragon: [out of spell] READ AND REVIEW!**

**Me: SHUT UP, ERAGON! I DON'T EVEN KNOW WHY I MADE YOU MAIN CHARACTER!**

**Note: I have set a poll up. What shall Murtagh's plot twist be? Be sure to answer it... if you wish that is.**


	6. Death to Death

**Disclaimer: I feel as if I shouldn't type these Disclaimers anymore... even though they add to the Word Count... Hey, Murtagh!**

**Eragon: What's up?**

**Me: Not you! Murtagh!**

**Murtagh: [yawns] What the heck! I was... [yawn] sleeping!**

**Me: [holds up McDonald's Happy Meal Boggy (combination of box and baggy)] Due to the poll I put up earlier, you win a McDonald's Happy Meal. It comes with a Double Cheeseburger, a small Sprite, and a toy.**

**Murtagh: What...? [Reads toy label] Avatar the Last Airbender?**

**Me: Yeah... Something wrong?**

**Murtagh: No. It's just that... Avatar doesn't have dragons.**

**Random Guy from Avatar: Hey! So what? We have a six-legged Air Buffalo!**

**Me: And, no. It's a fat cow. Now _DEYJA_!**

**Random Guy: [dies, then disappears]**

**Me: I'll dispose of the toy, too. If you want, that is.**

**Murtagh: I think I'll keep it. Thanks.**

**Me: I don't own Inheritance Cycle, or Avatar TLA, nor do I hate it. It is just random. Little kids with powers and go save a world. Somehow. I just don't like the plot :D. Roll the Story Line.**

**Urgal Worker: Okay... Which button was it? Oh, it's thi-**

* * *

Chapter 5: Death to Death

Once the Riders were situated, Katrina brought four cups of tea and an ice pack for Murtagh. Eragon told a brief story of what happened since they left Urû'baen, but told nothing of their mutual attraction between him and Arya, as well as the uprising for Galbatorix.

"So what of you, Roran?" Eragon asked. "What happened to you?"

"Well," Roran said, scratching his beard, "I made this farm... Made it look somewhat like how it was before it got burned down. Oh, that reminds me, You don't have a room."

"What?" Murtagh asked. "We don't get a room?"

"Murtagh, shut up," Eragon said. "You're acting like a total idiot."

"May as well not let him go see Brom again. Anyway, Eragon, your old room is now the baby's room." A smirk appeared beneath Roran's beard.

"Why?"

"Because you let the Ra'zac kill my father."

"Hey," Eragon said, pointing a finger at his cousin. "You may be older, but even you can't kill Galbatorix. He'd have you in a heartbeat. Besides, what could I do then? I was even beat up badly by Brom!"

"Right..." Roran rolled his eyes.

"That's it, Roran," Katrina scolded, tapping his head with the mixing spoon. "Besides, he saved me, remember?"

"Bah, of course..." Roran admitted.

They sat in complete silence until a faint cry filled the air. Katrina was surprised and ran toward Eragon's room, or where it would have been.

"Right," Eragon said. "I was about to ask, where your daughter was..."

"She's right here."

Katrina brought a bundle of cloths, as if she were going to the laundry, yet treating the cloths with care... but a small baby's face was visible in the blanket. Katrina leaned forward to let Eragon see.

"What's her name?" Eragon asked.

"Evrinya," Katrina said. "I named her after the elven word for star."

"She's beautiful," Murtagh said.

"Like a star," Roran said, "Of course."

Eragon had a sudden urge in the pit of his stomach. He placed his right hand on the Evrinya's brow, channeling magic through the hand. "Atra guliä un ilian tauthr ono un atra ono waíse sköliro fra rauthr."

The wave of energy left Eragon as the blessing was transfigured into magic. Due to the weakness, Eragon's legs fell numb for a second, before pulling his hand back.

"What happened?" Roran asked, concern in his voice.

"Oh," Murtagh piped up, "that happens when a complex spell is said, like a blessing, or something that requires a large deal of energy to do."

"About that..." Roran said. He produced a blue-green colored rock from his pocket. "_Stenr rïsa!"_ The stone shook for a second before steadily hovering a foot from the palm of Roran's hand. A vein in his neck bulged before the stone plopped back into his hand.

Eragon raised an eyebrow. "Okay..." he said.

"Carn helped me do it after leaving Urû'baen."

"Did he tell you about rules of magic?"

"About eating a loaf of bread after doing things like that? Of course he did." Murtagh rolled his eyes at Roran's reply.

Silence filled the room again. A blue eye enveloped a window as Saphira said, _Are you two-legs ready to go, yet? Thorn and I could have flown to the Hadarac Desert and back if we wanted to._

_Sorry, Saphira,_ Eragon said through their mental link. _We can go now, if you want._

Saphira withdrew from the window as Eragon stood up. "We are leaving now," he announced.

"Finally," Roran said. "And I really hope this... Forsworn... won't mess anything up."

"Roran, he's not a Forsworn. Just the son of one. And, he's not going slip a knife through your ribs while your asleep either."

"Nor a sword," Murtagh said.

Roran rolled his eyes as he gulped down the tea before standing up and disappearing into his room. Katrina watched as her husband walked away. "He's not that tense, you know." Murtagh lifted an eyebrow. "He's just uncomfortable that a former enemy is on his property."

"I wouldn't try to smash his head with a hammer even if I wanted too," Murtagh replied.

"I heard that!" came Roran's voice.

"What is making him so obnoxious..." Murtagh muttered.

* * *

Saphira and Thorn were assembled in front of the farm a few minutes later. Roran had Eragon put a spell on his crops so they would be free of bugs and be properly watered by the time they got back.

"Now," Eragon said. "Anything else?"

"No."

"Then let's get started. I think he is somewhere near Dras-Leona."

"He is," Murtagh replied. "Somewhere marked by two boulders of Roran's height." Roran scowled.

"Let's mount up," Eragon said. "Besides, I had invited some people over and I do not wish to keep them waiting."

"Agreed," Roran said, jumping onto Saphira's back. Murtagh help Katrina and Evrinya onto Thorn's saddle.

_What is with the hatchling? _Thorn demanded, _And why are we taking more people?_

"They are coming with us to go see Brom," Murtagh replied.

Thorn growled, yet did not shake off the new person on his back.

Eragon crawled onto Saphira's back. The probing tendril of concern poked into Eragon's conscience. _Is something the matter, Eragon?_ Saphira asked.

_No,_ Eragon replied, _I feel weird inside. Like something unpredictable or just... I don't know. I just can't see what it is._

_Whatever it is, I hope it will benefit us._

_Yes, I hope so too._

Saphira shook for a second before shooting into the air. Eragon pressed his body against the saddle as Saphira gained altitude. Roran looked around curiously, putting a hand into the clouds. Eragon looked down, following the road that he and Brom had traveled. He spotted a smoldering fire near a cluster of trees, a trail of smoke rising into the air. He recognized it as the first place where they started sparring. He smiled at the thought, and then averted his attention to Murtagh.

Murtagh was also looking around, as he had not came to the northwestern part of Alagäesia before. With his elvish eyes, Eragon saw Katrina pointing to certain areas, filling Murtagh in with details.

"Katrina and Murtagh seem to be having a nice time," Eragon said.

"He better not be too attached to her. I'd really like to crack his skull if I see them in the same room..."

Eragon looked at his cousin. "Why would Katrina want to be with Murtagh alone? Besides, she loves you more."

Roran sighed as the dragons flew past Utgard Mountain. The sun was setting from noon, giving a crisp color to the landscape. A few minutes later, Daret flew by. Eragon watched for the guard archers, but there were none. At least the city was bustling with some people.

The smoking ruins of Gil'ead flew into existence some time later. Some buildings were completely burned down, although few were spared. The large blackened castle seemed more smaller, due to the battering of continuous magic piled into one wing to the next.

Many of the bodies were erased form existence, either under the ground or burned. The wood from the trebuchets had started to rot, and turn somewhat to a more darker color. Eragon thought he saw a blue gleam near a ruin, and told Saphira to descend.

Saphira didn't exactly land at the place, but Eragon was close enough to see what happened. A large hole was made due to a fallen trebuchet missile. A blue stone-like object was found near the core of the crater.

"What's wrong?" Roran asked from Saphira's back, who hushed Roran to be quiet.

Eragon crouched down to inspect the stone. It was too small to be the top of a dragon's egg, since he poked his finger to one side of the object; his finger only sifted through softened dirt.

Puzzled, Eragon started tracing around the stone-like object in a spiral movement. A few minutes later, the pommel of a sword was dug out of existence. A faded aquamarine adorned the middle of the handle. The guard seemed to consist of a dragon's body. The blade was barely visible, but Eragon saw that the faded color was a slight tinge of a darker tint of teal, like cerulean.

With all his strength, and the fact that a colored sword meant something worth digging out, Eragon pressed both hands on the hand-an-a-half hilt, but the sword resisted the force. He pulled a second time, only feeling a slight tug.

"What did you find?" Roran called.

"I'll be up in a minute!" Eragon replied, finally wrenching the whole blade out of the ground. The gathering of backward force pulled Eragon backward, and left him sitting at the raised crater wall. Eragon felt dazed for a few seconds, then stared at what blade he lay in his hands. The insignia was very much different than other scrolls he found in Oromis' library. But he recognized it somehow. He pondered aggressively, then situated on one thought...

_There was another mark on the wall in the Golden Globe. Brom was nowhere nearby, and as Eragon read the message, and before he wiped it away, he saw a faded symbol. He brushed it too fast to study it, so he forgot about it, then strung his bow... exiting the room thereafter._

This mark seemed to force a certain feeling into Eragon, then remembering the ways to translate Ancient Language glyphs into Runic Language. It took him a minute to translate, and he was astonished at his discovery. One glyph. One word.

Undbitr.

Saphira.

Brom.

It all came together.

Eragon smiled as he cradled the forgotten relic of his father. Snowfire had been given to Roran, the dragon saddle had been long replaced, but the sapphire ring was still on his finger. _I now have two mementos. Of my father. Oh, the wish to see his face now._

_Eragon?_ came Saphira's inquiring voice. _What have you found?_

_A new discovery. Come. We must get to Brom's grave. To fully honor him as a Rider._

Eragon slipped the aquamarine sword on the Belt of Beloth the Wise, and climbed up the crater. Roran looked at Eragon, then said, "Well, looks like you found yourself a new sword. Grat's."

"Do not insult the sword of a Rider," Eragon snapped, making Roran flinch. "This is the very sword of a Rider whom started the Varden."

Roran took a second to regain his senses. "Ajihad was a Rider?"

Eragon ground his teeth at his cousin's ignorance. "No. You shall see when we... we meet at Brom's grave." Roran shrugged and Saphira took off once Eragon wrapped the straps around his knuckles.

* * *

It was two hours later until the city of Dras-Leona appeared into sight. Roran had fallen asleep, but the saddle kept him from falling off. Thorn was not far behind, only to catch up with Eragon before making a stray turn.

Helgrind was not very far off, but Eragon was not planning on going there. He wondered if the slaves that were sent there each full moon were spared, since the Ra'zac were killed.

The two boulders that Murtagh indicated were also not far off, somewhere off the road from Dras-Leona to Helgrind. Next to the boulders, a shelf that beheld the diamond tomb jutted out of the ground. In the distance, a party of five horses were riding toward the site.

"Land here," Eragon told Saphira. "Here, we have enough landing space. Tell Thorn to land too."

_He follows where I go. When we are flying together, I mean._ Saphira dove slowly, to compensate for Roran's slumber.

Eragon woke up his cousin when Saphira landed, whom was shaken awake by the few steps that Saphira meant to be gentle. "We're here," he said. Thorn landed not a far ways off. Murtagh jumped down, helping Katrina hold the baby while the mother got off the dragon.

The five horses cantered from behind the brush, on which three elves were riding on. The party consisted of Queen Islanzadí, Arya, and Vanír for some reason. As the elven queen dismounted, Roran knelt, as well as Katrina. The Riders also knelt. Queen Islanzadí smiled before turning too Katrina and said, "You may rise, for you carry a child. You may tend to the child's needs before fealty."

"Your majesty," Katrina replied with her most dignified voice. "Is it not honorific if I do not address a queen with honor?"

"We elves have much praise when a child is born. We allow the birth-giver to be comfortable as long as she is tending the child."

"I thank you," Katrina said before rising.

The other three rose at the same time at Islanzadí's cue. "May we go see Brom now, your majesty?" Eragon asked.

"You may." The elven queen walked up the ramp to Brom's grave. It looked like a royal hall, but just hidden in the wilderness. Eragon followed behind Arya, whom walked behind her mother. Murtagh was next, then Roran, then Katrina.

The old storyteller's face had not changed ever since he had been buried. He remembered Saphira's words back then. _Now time shall not ravage him. He will rest in peace for eternity._

"Elf-Friend," Islanzadí said in the Ancient Language. "It has been so long that we have met face to face. We thank you for protecting and teaching Eragon, then claiming him as your son. You have done more than enough for the sake of Alagäesia. May you rest, and therefore be forever at peace." The queen stepped back before Arya walked up to give a blessing. "I had barely known you," she started. "But you gave me a place to stay: the Varden, and I thank you for that. It allowed me to have a place where people respected one another. May your creation of this band of Galbatorix-rebels help rebuild the land Galbatorix had destroyed."

No one went up at that moment, so Murtagh shrugged and went up to the diamond tomb. "I had only known you for two days. I help you and Eragon get away from the Ra'zac. I help him get to the Varden. And I also wish to say thank you, for you had done something I could probably never have brought myself to do."

After Roran and Katrina had said their honors, Eragon walked up, and stood before the grave message that he had inscribed. He used magic to create another message, which said: _Here Lies Brom: Whom had done things no ordinary man could have done, whom had sacrificed his life to save one who was originally lower than him. Whom now lies in a coffin man would kill to be laid in, whose spirit lies within more than a thousand men. Whom was one of the most magnanimous men to live on this earth, whom was one of the best. May his spirit continue to live in peace._

After crafting the message, he brought out a bandaged object. Strip by strip, the aquamarine blade was unwrapped into existence. Islanzadí's eyes beamed at the sight of the old Rider's sword. Eragon laid Undbitr on the diamond tomb, which, to Eragon's amazement, dissolved into the diamond, appearing next to Brom's hand.

The sun then turned, casting light on the whole tomb. The light glared toward the watchers, making them try to shield their eyes from the rays. A dull outline was all Eragon could see, and he still didn't believe his eyes.

The figure inside the tomb moved his hand, wrapped his fingers around the hilt of Undbitr, then a deafening crash. Shards of gem fell toward them, only to be deflected by Eragon's wards.

The light dimmed to only the afternoon sun, and in front of the diamond coffin stood Brom.

* * *

**A/N: I am so... sorry this took so long. School started a week ago, so I didn't have much time to write. Sorry. **

**Murtagh: Now what?**

**Me: [looks up from Poll List] Oh, it says here... that you shall be sent to the real world... Okay. [raises hand to face, then shows Murtagh palm of hand] Sernis!**

**Murtagh: Waaaaaah...!**

**Eragon: What just happened?**

**Me: Murtagh is now in the real world, discovering new wonders. I hope you like this chapter. Now, you may either re-read it, or you may review. Thanks... Watch for the next chapter in another month or so. :/**


	7. A Gift Left For the Master

**Disclaimer: Okay. Brom's back, so I guess I can disclaim that I don't own him either. Or the Inheritance Cycle. You know the drill...**

**Brom: Seriously. Why _did_ you bring me back? I was having a very good rest in that diamond coffin.**

**Eragon: Why? All I wanted to do was give your your sword back and then you came back alive.**

**Brom: Oh. How'd you find my sword anyway?**

**Eragon: A trebuchet dug a hole for you.**

**Me: Okay, may as well... give you your father-son conversation in the story. Roll that storyline!**

**A/N: There are only two lines. This one below the Author's Note, and the one near the end of the chapter. Also, I want to say, sorry this took so long, and I hope you enjoy the "filler." Please, READ AND REVIEW!**

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Chapter 6: A Gift Left For the Teacher

Brom sighed as he stretched his limbs, then looked at the crowd in front of him. He gave a puzzled look, then asked, "What's going on?"

"Welcome back, Brom," Islanzadí said in the Ancient Language. Quickly addressing the elven greetings, each elf said the first line to Brom.

"When did elven customs change that the higher status greet the weaker?" Brom asked in a quickened tongue. "I was supposed to speak first."

"There is no one higher in status to whom has went to the realm of the dead, and come back. Then again, Undbitr seemed to open another involuntary passage for you to exit through."

"Undbitr..." Brom said, staring at his aquamarine blade. "Opener of Passages..."

"Also excellent for producing the best ambush and guerrilla tactics," Vanír said. "Although, I had never experienced moving through dimension-holes."

"Would also be good to storm Helgrind, too..." Eragon muttered, hoping it would be too quiet for Brom to listen. But it wasn't.

"Helgrind?" Brom queried. "Wait. Are the Ra'zac dead, Eragon? What exactly happened when I was departed?"

Eragon sighed before giving a long, although brief description of what happened after when he and Murtagh arrived at the Varden. Brom was nodding at every detail, while Murtagh helped fill out minor details. When Eragon got to the part of the Az Sweldn rak Anhûin trying to assassinate him, Arya handed Eragon a flask of faelnirv. By the end of the story, the flask was about an eighth full.

"And you found Undbitr in a trebuchet crater?" Brom asked.

"Yes, sir."

"And you gave Undbitr to me and I just _happened_ to come back from the realm of the dead?"

"Yes."

"And we are going... to have that conversation about aerial battle tactics from a year ago, before we set off on that almost ridiculous journey?"

"No. Let's not have that. Maybe later."

Brom turned to Saphira. "How are you Saphira? It gladdens me that I am able to see you again. You seem much bigger."

_Yes, I am fine,_ Saphira replied. _I just seem to think your last statement was quite random._

"Yes, that seems to happen now."

"Okay," Roran interrupted. He faced his cousin. "Eragon, you said something about Galbatorix's army, or what's left of it, is amassing an attack against the Varden and the Elves. What are we going to do about it?"

Eragon looked dumbfounded. "I actually don't know. I just noticed a few days ago."

"Let's ambush them using Undbitr," Vanír suggested.

"That may as well be a deathtrap," Eragon said.

_Burn them, _Thorn said, almost wishing it would happen.

_You'll be shot down before you could get a tent burning,_ Saphira replied.

"Then it is another war?" Roran said astonished. "I don't want to spill blood again! I have a child for Alagäesia's sake!"

"Nor shall you have to," Brom said, "This is not the once-common enemy that has ruled Alagäesia for a hundred years. This is a remnant of a premature Empire we are dealing with. They may as well have two-thousand soldiers at their disposal, a small section of spellcasters. If it would mean war, we would easily outmaneuver them with two Dragon Riders."

"So you still spout that philosophy even after death?" Roran said.

Eragon glared at Roran. "That's is my father you are talking about. He's the one who started the Varden in the first place."

"I suggest we talk with the Varden about this," Murtagh said suddenly. "They would know what to do."

"Ohh!" Roran replied. "Finally, the _traitor_ says something sensible."

Katrina slapped her husband on the arm. "Roran!" she scolded, "you are acting like a three-year-old in front of a queen and princess, two Dragon Riders, and a person who came back from the dead! Can't you change your attitude?" Roran harrumphed at the chiding he received.

"This may as well be having this group falling apart," Arya remarked. "We're probably bickering more than Galbatorix's army does."

"Then it is settled," Islanzadí said. "We will go to Orrin and Nasuada about this upcoming bloodshed. They may not know of this yet, since we still have our elven scouts in the Empire."

"Must the dwarves be warned of this?" Brom asked.

"I doubt Orik will have to be warned with this."

"Orik is King?" Brom asked. "What happened to King Hrothgar?"

"I killed him!" Murtagh exclaimed, as if it was a big accomplishment.

Everyone stared at him like he was crazy. Then Eragon and Arya resignedly said: "It's true." The two stared at each other for saying something simultaneously. They turned away without a word. _At least she didn't do anything now, Eragon thought. Maybe it's because her mother is here?_

"We should be leaving," Roran said.

"Yes," Brom agreed. "I feel as if we are being watched." He walked toward a tree, said something in the Ancient Language and fashioned a temporary scabbard for his sword.

Murtagh jumped onto the saddle. "Yes, so I guess the lovely lady can ride the Crimson Express?"

"Shut up, Murtagh," Eragon said. I'm taking my cousins home. And you're taking Brom."

Murtagh scowled. The old man helped himself into Thorn's saddle. _What in the world..._ Thorn complained. _How come I feel much more weight on my shoulders...?_

"Be sure to meet at the Burning Plains in time for the Varden's meeting in time.

The dragons soared toward north, to Carvahall. The trees beneath zoomed underneath, as if the world were being sucked into the direction they were coming from.

The ruins of Gil'ead was seen in the east awhile later, the tendrils of smoke swirling into the air. Eragon then knew Carvahall was not very far away. A few minutes later, Eragon saw the real aftermath of Carvahall. He knew he had seen it in the distance, but he didn't think it would be this serious.

None of the houses were spared to the raging inferno the Ra'zac had produced. Most were burnt to the ground, only to leave a sooty pile. Eragon saw some people raising scaffolds on some of the blasted ruins. Eragon thought one of the men looked up, stuck a hand into the air, waving it back and forth.

The dragons landed in Roran's farm, in the fields, and Eragon's cousins dismounted Saphira and disappeared into the house. The two Riders then soared into the direction of Du Weldenvarden.

_Saphira?_ Eragon asked.

_Yes, little one?_

_What if... Galbatorix isn't actually dead? Like he is under another guise, commanding troops from the shadows?_

_I do not know. It is a possibility, but it is unlikely since he was turned to dust, hen burned into smoke._

_True, but he _could_ revive into a Shade._ Eragon shivered to the thought.

_Do not worry, little one. It just means more Shadeslayer title,_ Saphira said sarcastically.

Eragon put the statement aside as they neared the edge of the forest. The Crags of Tel'naeír were in sight, and the dragons landed there. Oromis' hut was still standing, yet was left unused since his death. Eragon dismounted Saphira, plodding toward the house. Brom jumped off Thorn, and followed inside.

The hut was clean, but the fruit bowl had been replaced, since the other one had received a crack on it due to unknown reasons, and was refilled with fresh fruit. Eragon plucked a blueberry, remembering the revelation that Brom was his father. Disgusted that Galbatorix had killed Oromis, Eragon put the blueberry back.

The fairth of Ilirea had also been replaced, like the fruit bowl; had received a crack in it. Looking over to where Naegling was, the bronze colored sword Oromis bore, now rested a stone tablet, written in the Ancient Language which read:

_The last of the Elders,  
the last of the flourishing Riders,  
the last to be killed by him who had proclaimed himself king.  
Here rests Oromis-elda, may his teachings move on in history._

Eragon started trembling, and Brom placed a shoulder on his son's shoulder. "Why did he have to die?" Eragon asked, although he already knew the answer in his heart.

"Many have died in this war," Brom replied. "Countless officers, innocents, and souls sacrificed." The old storyteller sighed. "And by that, Alagäesia shall never be the same."

_I guess that also means me leaving this place, _Eragon thought. _And I don't have any clue what lies ahead._

"Why did we make this detour here?" Brom asked.

"I wanted to leave something for him," Eragon said. He produced a bundle wrapped in a bandage. He unveiled the golden sword in its sheath, and rested the weapon on the pedestal where the stone was. The blade's color rippled as it rested on the wood for a few seconds before resuming its original appearance.

"Where did you find Naegling?" Brom asked, surprised. "First, you find my blade; one that has been buried for nearly fifty years, and now you find the Teacher's Blade?"

"An elf told me to place Naegling here," Eragon explained. " But then, it so happens that I have come across both my teachers' swords." Brom agreed with a hum. "But now, I seem to wish that Oromis were to come alive all of a sudden."

"But," Brom said, "if you were to give Galbatorix his sword back, then he should come alive too, right? Also, Naegling isn't a portal producer."

Eragon had to agree. Brom was alive so Undbitr could be with its owner again. It occurred to Eragon that swords could have feelings too: something inanimate could have feelings.

"Is it yet time to head for the Varden?" Brom asked.

Eragon grinned all of a sudden. "Is it me, or are you the one with the questions now?" Brom smiled. The two exited the hut together, walking back to the dragons. Father and son mounted Saphira, and soared into the air.

The rhythm of the dragon's wings caused Eragon to fall asleep. His dreams were vivid in his mind's eye...

_Epic clashes... steel from swords flashing... glint from arrows flying... fragments of buildings sent crashing to the sky and back to the ground... then the scene averted to a throne room. Tapestries of varying color hung on the walls._

_Eragon sat upon the throne on the pedestal, although no cape covered his shoulders, and no crown rested on his head. It was the wear he had worn when he found Saphira's egg. People were clustered inside, and in complete unison, knelt and said:_

We had fought to control you, yet you now control us.

We had fought to destroy you, yet you now destroyed us.

We had fought to rule you, yet you now rule us.

Hail, Eragon Konüngr, King of all Alagäesia.

_The people then vanished into thin air, and the space of the throne room distorted, and Eragon was sucked into the vortex. He glanced back, seeing the tapestries fly off the walls and converge into one being: the shape of a dragon. The rainbow dragon stared at Eragon through its baleful eye._

_Eragon heard the voice of fire again, since that year at the Agaetí Blödhren: _You are still here,_ spoke the dragon._

"_That I am," Eragon said. "What is it, skulblaka__ celöbrai__?"_

Your time is up here,_ the dragon said vehemently. It stamped its paw, causing fissures in the fabric of invisible space. The cracks connected into the shape of a diffused oval, similar to the pattern of the gedwëy ignasia, the pattern resting under Eragon._

Finish what you need to finish here, until the end of the next year. Then you shall leave Alagäesia, and go to the other islands that need order of a Dragon Rider. You may only accomplish this with only one other person, whom you fully trust, and in turn, fully trusts you. Go as this is our gift.

Our gift to you...

_The ground beneath Eragon gave away, and the Rider fell through. Before he awoke, he heard the voice of fire once more._

Go Eragon Brommson, our hope, our sanctity, our sanctuary, and our last descendant._ And Eragon heard no more._

_

* * *

_**A/N: Okay, if you didn't notice this was a filler. Uhh, I wasn't supposed to say that, right? Oh, and also, I think it's time to bring Murtagh back from the Real World, huh? I guess you'll see him in next chapter's Disclaimer. Oh and next, to everyone getting to this point in the Chapter, I changed the Genre, yet again! Now it is Romance/DRAMA, instead of General.**

**Well, you know what comes next.**

**READ AND REVIEW! NOW! JUST CLICK THAT LINK DOWN THERE!**

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	8. Reunion and Siege

**Disclaimer: Okay, here's Chapter Eight. You figured that out, right? I really hope you did. Otherwise, I'd be mad you could not find your sense of direction, and _that_ would be disastrous. However, I am not in charge of your sense of direction. Same thing goes for the outline of this story.**

**Eragon: Okay, you might as well be lost in this studio.**

**Me: Eragon, you know. I sometimes wish that, in the story, Galbatorix's soldiers come out of nowhere and cut you up to bits. Or maybe even a horde of Ra'zac would suffice. You could be very obnoxious sometimes.**

**Murtagh: [Walks through studio door] Hi, guys!**

**Me: [stares at Murtagh] How'd you get in here?**

**Murtagh: Oh, I just asked the receptionist. She showed me the way here from the front desk. [sips from mug]**

**Eragon: What's in there?**

**Murtagh: Oh! Yeah, I was getting to that. This... is a wonderful drink... called... coffee.**

**Me: [face-palm] Okay, first of all, coffee is bitter. How many sugar cubes did you put in there?**

**Murtagh: [thinks for a moment] Err... I think seven-and-twenty.**

**Me: [surprised] Wow... I just hope you don't...**

**Murtagh: Whoa! What's that? [runs up to floodlights and tapping on glass bulb] And that! [runs to microphone, inspecting elements] Oh my god!**

**Me: [face-palm] go hyper... Okay... Orhiz!**

**Urgal Worker: What?**

**Me: Just roll the story!**

**Orhiz: Okay. May as well keep having him keep crashing into furniture then.**

* * *

Chapter 7: Reunion and Siege

Eragon did not tell anyone about his dream. Only he and Saphira knew the full details of the dream due to their bond. He had longed to tell Brom, just like the account of Saphira. But Eragon was unsure if Brom would explode like the Teacher and tell him to forget it, or if the Father were to comfort Eragon with words. Eragon didn't take the chance, because he was uncertain.

_Are you to tell Arya?_ Saphira asked through their mental link.

_Do you remember the talk when Arya woke me up? _Eragon replied. _I thought I was not to presume such 'inadequate' things._

_No, _Saphira said. _Does she need to know. She may be the one regarding your fortune; most likely actually, and she also may be the one who will leave Alagäesia with you. Also as well as anyone here._

_And the two dragons in the sky? I think someone also has to be left behind._

Eragon thought about the dream; the first he had received since he had been linked to Saphira. One would be left behind. And the dragons. For sure, Eragon knew one was Saphira, and for the other one, it may as well be the green dragon. As for the man crying out on the beach, it could be anyone.

The dragons landed at the edge of the Hadarac Desert. Jubilant, Saphira soared into the desert air, after convincing Thorn to come with her. Murtagh got a fire going and Brom came back from the forest with two large rabbits.

As the three had their dinner, Brom looked up from his food. "So, how are we exactly going to cross the Hadarac?" The old man asked. "We doubt we have enough water to cross that expanse of sand."

Eragon and Murtagh stared at each other, grinned, and got up. The dug a hole in the sand, and commanding: "Adurna rïsa!" at the same time. Water trickled into the hole the Riders made. Brom looked at the puddle, lowered a waterskin into the liquid and drank out of it. Pleased, Brom said, "Well, I hadn't thought of that."

Eragon grinned and said, "Then again, Saphira likes the Hadarac do much we could probably clear it in a fortnight."

And at that moment, Saphira and Thorn returned from their flight. Thorn landed with an explosion of sand, the sediment cascading onto the Riders. Brom spit out some sand before saying, "Can someone make another water puddle again? This sand is irritating in my beard."

* * *

Only three times did Eragon need to supply water, and three time were the waterskins refilled. And by the next evening, the Hadarac Desert was navigated by the second time. They were near the city of Furnost, situated on the lake Tüdosten.

"So we go to Furnost," Murtagh said, "then past Melian to the Burning Plains, correct?" Eragon nodded. "If I am not mistaken, Furnost was one of the king's supporters, since much trade flourished there under Galbatorix's reign," Murtagh added.

Brom chuckled. "Yes, it seems you've gotten smarter too. I just hoped Roran thought more of you. Sadly, he won't."

"Yet we need provisions," Eragon said. "And Furnost is the only city for leagues around. Apparently, you and Brom don't look too elf-ly like me, and an elf is sure to cause suspicion."

"So it is going to be Neal an Even again?" Brom asked.

"Maybe," Murtagh said, rolling his eyes. "Thorn, listen to Eragon. He knows how to stay out of sight."

_I'm not listening to him,_ Thorn said, turning away.

_You will listen to my Rider,_ Saphira commanded, baring her teeth. Thorn snorted and retreated into the trees.

"I guess thank you, Saphira," Murtagh said.

Saphira dipped her head as Murtagh ran after Brom into the city. Eragon and Saphira followed to where Thorn headed into the trees.

Thorn lay on the ground, head on his paws, in a small clearing. It was a used campfire, since the logs have been moved to make seats and a circle of stones surrounding a small smokeless fire. Eragon knew Murtagh and Brom wouldn't be back immediately, so he talked with Saphira.

_I don't know why Thorn is so... defiant sometimes, _he said._ It's almost as if he thinks himself as a wild dragon._

Saphira blinked. _He listens to me just as easily a servant to a master._

_Maybe because you relieved him of an infinite life of solitude._

_Solitude was, and still is, one of the worst fears of life. You remember how Glaedr lamented Oromis' death._ Eragon digested the thought. He remembered Glaedr thinking out loud: _Gone. Gone! GONE!_ _Alone! _It was enough for Eragon to shed a tear, grateful that it had not happened to Saphira. Yet.

_But isn't there another reason that Thorn could have changed?_

_Maybe Murtagh changed him with a series of tasks; similar to the ones during tuatha du orothrim. He did that until Thorn said no, either that or keep doing the exercise. Now, he only considers the consequences before doing things._

At that moment, Eragon whirled around at the sound of rustling leaves and branches. Amazed, he found Brisingr locked in a cross with Murtagh, Zar'roc in hand; blocking with the pommel.

"Hey, Eragon," Murtagh said, "Next time, look before you chop somebody's hand off." The two separated their swords and sheathed them.

"Well?" Eragon asked. "How'd it go?"

"Fast," Brom said. "Amazingly too. But the merchants there eyed us weirdly before accepting our money. With Murtagh's hair messed up, they barely recognized him even with Zar'roc at his belt."

"Wow, are they clueless," Eragon laughed.

"Laugh more if you wish, but they may come after us if you are too loud. They would certainly profit from three Riders and two dragons."

"The only way they would succeed would be to send their army after us."

Brom snapped his fingers. "Come, we must rest. We shall leave Furnost at daybreak.

* * *

Daybreak came quickly and the dragons soared into the morning sky. Below them, there were only plains and the occasional tree. Another hour past by before the walls of Melian were seen in the east... and the tops of the red tents of the Varden directly forward.

_We are home,_ Saphira hummed.

_Yes,_ Eragon agreed,_ the replacement for it, that is._

The dragons zoomed toward the tents at a dizzying speed, the ground a blur. Three streaks of white were seen below. Eragon assumed the streaks were Arya, Islanzadí, and Vanír. For some reason, Eragon hoped to see Arya again. For some reason, Eragon missed her.

Saphira and Thorn gave a triumphant roar, ejecting a stream of blue and red fire. Eragon heard the return of the Varden with their battle cries.

The dragons landed in the heart of the Varden camp, followed by the three elves. The Riders and the elves dismounted, yet all the attention was centered on Brom. When Nasuada came out of her tent, she froze as her eyes laid on Brom. It was pure silence for a while.

Nasuada then stammered, "Brom...? Is it really you...?"

Brom knelt, saying yes. "Where is Ajihad?" Eragon bit his lip.

Nasuada's face fell. A tear rolled down her cheek as she admitted, "He was killed during the Battle of Farthen Dûr."

"What..." Brom trailed off. "How..."

Jormündur stood forward. "Three days," he began, "after the Eragon slayed Durza, a company of Urgals ambushed Ajihad, Murtagh, the Twins, and twelve soldiers, from behind. The Urgals overwhelmed him, yet Ajihad brought down five of the monsters before his unfortunate death."

Brom sighed. "At least the proud fool died in honor. "Brom glanced at the Urgal Nighthawks and Garzhvog. "Judging by having Urgals here, I guess you accepted some peace treaty with them."

Eragon heard Garzhvog growl. Nasuada shrugged. "It was either fight or flight."

Brom answered with a nod. "Speaking of which, how goes my Varden?"

Nasuada appeared shocked. "Your... Varden?"

"He had started the Varden, you know," Islanzadí said, adding a bit of human language so Nasuada would understand, "We had not revealed such information until now."

"Ah, yes. I believe so."

"Now that's settled," Eragon said, "we need to wait for Orrin."

"Don't bother," a gruff voice said from behind them. "He's already here." Everyone whirled around to face the Surdan king, a bandage wrapped on his right hand.

"What happened to you?" Arya asked, raising an eyebrow.

Orrin sighed. "Well, I kind of stuck a scalpel into one of the chemicals that appeared to be corrosive. Then I slipped and cut my self, or had the acid eat me. At least I got it cleaned before the cut got too deep into the muscle."

Brom snapped his fingers. "Okay, everyone is present. Nasuada, if you please, allow us into your tent."

* * *

The leaders huddled around the table which lay a three dimensional map of Alagäesia, constructed of wood and clay. Brom pointed at the structure which marked Helgrind. "This is where they are. They are gathering forces from six cities; apparently Daret, Dras-Leona, Eastcroft, Furnost, and Narda. One tactic we can make is to center our attack on Helgrind and Dras-Leona. The elves can attack from the North, the Varden from the South, and the Varden from the East." The map showed an example of the scene, conjured by magic. Eragon resolved that it was made by the Du Vrangr Gata.

"But," Nasuada objected, "couldn't reserve forces attack us from behind?" Brom raised an eyebrow as soldiers started cutting down the attackers.

"We shall send our best warriors to fight, provoke the enemy to stage the ambush, and then overwhelm them with sheer number," Orrin said.

"Then again," Murtagh said, "those numbers would thin out faster than the first wave."

Eragon banged a fist on the table, the projections disappearing. "We can only know so much! How can we predict their motives?"

"Ah," Brom said, lifting a finger, "you forget that we would outmaneuver them with two Dragon Riders?"

Saphira blinked an eye. _And I hoped you didn't forget that. Did you happen to forget skulblaka svènn?_

Eragon face-palmed as he replied, _Damn! I could have used it so many times!_

_We all make mistakes. Remember what you did with Aren?_

No one said anything for a while, until Arya spoke, "What about we send in the Urgals from the North and the Varden from the South? That would cause their forces to think it were two coincidental simultaneous raiding parties.

"When their army turns up to fend off the supposed raiding parties, the remaining Varden, Elven and Urgal forces to ambush the ambushers." The figures appeared again. The first wave of soldiers entered the city, overwhelming the guards. The defenders appeared behind them and began to attack the perpetrators. Then, the main army came, regrouped with the raiding party, destroying Dras-Leona. Eragon watched the clay towers of Helgrind sink into the ground.

"I should have come up with that tactic..." muttered Brom.

"So," Orrin said, "are we to leave now?"

"In a few hours," Nasuada replied. "Gather your forces and we shall march onto Dras-Leona and Helgrind."

Islanzadí talked with Vanír; who nodded and left the tent, and Orrin strode out, assessing to his soldiers. Islanzadí turned to Brom, saying, "You have much explaining to do, Vinr Alfäkyn."

"Of course, my queen," Brom said, promptly bowing and calling Murtagh to follow before following the queen out the tent.

"You may be dismissed too, Eragon and Arya," Nasuada said to the two remaining people in the tent. Eragon thanked Nasuada before exiting, followed by Arya. The two walked toward Eragon's tent in silence, but when they arrived at the tent, Arya said, "We have not spoken in a friendly manner for some time."

Eragon fumbled with a knot and said, "We have not. Not since a week ago or so. Is something on your mind?" Eragon finished untying the last knot, and the two disappeared inside. Eragon then tied one of the knots to keep the flap closed, and turned around to be embraced by Arya.

"I missed you."

I have too," Eragon replied. "It feels good to be around you again." Eragon the wrapped his arms around her. "Is something wrong?"

Arya smiled and said, "No. I'm fine."

"Do you love me?"

Arya seemed shocked by the question, but regained her posture as she said, "With all my heart."

"And trust?"

"With my life. Why should I not? You saved my life during Gil'ead, even though you could have just left me. Even now, Saphira trusts me enough to allow me to ride her during even minor battles when you are not around." Eragon smiled as they tilted their heads and pressed their lips together. A sudden surge of euphoria coursed through Eragon as their friendship was reconciled. It made him feel good, since he had rejected Arya a few days before.

They were lost in their own world until a horn sounded, followed by a man's crying voice. Eragon separated himself and said, "Soldiers?"

"I believe so," Arya replied. "I knew this couldn't last long." Eragon started to draw his sword, but Arya placed a hand on his shoulder. "Don't die. It saddens my heart to see you charge into battle, much more if you were to perish by steel."

"I wish not to leave you either. But this fight must end if we are to spend our lives in harmony." Arya nodded, then untied the strings with magic. Flashes of steel winked in the air as they were brought down, to meet a sword beneath.

In the beginning, Eragon cleaved a man's hand with a two-handed blow. Arya parried a sword thrust and smote the attacker with a bolt of green magic. Once, Eragon spotted a soldier attack Arya from her blind spot, which he quickly disposed of the attacker with a sword thrust.

Before long, the battle was over, the northern entrance riddled with bodies. Eragon walked up to Islanzadí, where she was cleaning her blade with the tunic of a fallen soldier. "How many were there?"

"Twenty-five of them," the elven queen answered. "But the Varden has not suffered any numbers. Two fled, and in all, twenty-three to burn."

"When shall we leave for Dras-Leona?" Eragon asked.

The elven queen stared into the horizon. "Until the elven forces arrive. Probably in a half hour."

* * *

The army was divided into four parts: a Varden raiding party, a Urgal raiding party, and two main armies, consisting of elves, Varden members, and Urgals. Eragon was commanding the northern main army, Arya the southern, and each raiding party by their own commanders. Islanzadí was returning to Ellésmera with Vanír, as they couldn't participate in the upcoming battle. It annoyed Vanír so much that he had to be tranquilized with a spell.

It was two days until they arrived at the designated places. Eragon waited by the forest edge, a league away from Dras-Leona. "Go," he said to the supposed raiding party. "Be quick, and give us a yell when the main force has ambushed." The commander nodded, leading the men forward.

"Now, we wait," Eragon told the main army. "Anyone with ears sharp enough, tell the rest of the men. This is one battle we ave all been waiting for."

The men fidgeted as the seconds turned to minutes. One of the men looked up, fifteen minutes later, and said, "Is that it?"

Eragon turned to the city, hearing a "raah!" in the horizon. "I do not know anyone who can shout that loud," he declared, "CHARGE!"

The army burst into action, following the battle cry as they ran toward Dras-Leona. Soon, another cry came into unison, and the city was under attack. Siege engines overturned false trees, launching rocks dipped in burning oil, following a volley of flaming arrows. The city was under siege. Dras-Leona and Helgrind was doomed by the forces of the _Alliance._

* * *

**Sorry. I meant for this to be on the weekend, but I typed this as fast as possible, being three or so days early. So enjoy. R&R!**


	9. Ending of the Empire

**Disclaimer: Yet another chapter... yet another disclaimer. Let's get this over with, shall we?**

**Arya: Finally. I get a chance to be in a disclaimer!**

**Me: Yeah... uhh...**

**Eragon: Of course...**

**Me: You were here in Chapter 3's Disclaimer. You said you wanted to make out with Eragon. Apparently, that's all you said.**

**Eragon: Don't spoil her moment!**

**Murtagh: But I think we just did.**

**Me: How did all of you get in here? Dammit, how do I do this already...**

**Brom: I think it's that button over there.**

**Me: Oh, thanks, Brom. At least you are more helpful and less annoying than your son...**

**Galbatorix: Can I come back yet?**

**Me: No! Shut up Galbatorix! [mutes Galbatorix] Okay... about time I do this...**

**Everyone else: ONE-SEE-AYSER STILL DOESN'T OWN ANYTHING!**

**Me: For Alagäesia's sake, SHUT UP!**

* * *

Chapter 9: Ending of the Empire

It seemed to Eragon that the raiding party was doing a good job fending off the thousand soldiers thrown at them out of nowhere. Eragon threw himself at the first soldier, who cried out in alarm. Saphira flew overhead, her jet of flame burning the soldiers below her.

Eragon jumped ahead, decapitating another soldier in midair, and found the other raiding party regrouped with the secondary main army. Eragon was about to run up to Murtagh, whom was studying the damage, until Eragon heard a battle cry behind him. "For the Empire!"

Eragon jumped away from the sword that swung from his original position. The soldier was quite fat, determining how the armor was almost popping off his broad torso and stomach. A short sword was in his right hand. But his face was too obscured for Eragon to recognize him. _Who was he... he seems familiar..._

As Eragon parried another blow, he saw the man's face. Baby smooth...

"...learned you were in town and wondered if you knew the name of that trader..."

_What...?_

"...worse than vultures circling a dead animal..."

_One year ago..._

"... it's only through the grace of our king we've been protected for so long..."

_Morn's tavern..._

"It's only through the king's unceasing efforts on your behalf that you're able to argue with us in safety..."

Eragon's blood boiled as remembered the trader.

_TRADERS!_

Eragon swung the sword at his attacker, slicing off the belt of the trader. Growling in protest, the trader swung his arm, to connect with Brisingr and to find himself disarmed. Eragon glared into the trader's face and hissed, "Carvahall has a deep-seated hatred for the Empire. Did you know that? Carvahall does not accept praise to that black-hearted king of yours."

The trader's eyes widened. "That... boy..." he whispered. Those were the last words he said.

Eragon retched as the blood pooled from the man's cleaved stomach. _Men are not supposed to fear killing,_ Eragon heard in his mind. But the voice was not of Saphira._ Men are supposed to fear others being killed. The ones close to you. That trader you just killed was just like the rest you killed. The Ra'zac, Galbatorix, Durza... all of them are like that trader._

Eragon left the body and ran up to Murtagh, who was fending off a recruit soldier. After disposing of the man, Murtagh said, "Now, I get to deal what the Empire had done to me. All my life was spent to evading them. Now I can take them out."

"Aye," Eragon agreed. "Just like the people of Carvahall could only hate them. Now they fight for their destroyed village."

"And some are remaking it as we speak." Murtagh swung Zar'roc in an arc, catching a man by surprise and cutting a crimson line in the man's face. "And also, no spellcasters are here yet. Why is that?"

"No idea. Maybe they are being reserved for the real army?"

"Why don't you fly on Saphira and find out?"

"I'll go do that."

Dras-Leona was leveled in minutes, due to the battering rams and the burning oil siege machines. The Varden, Urgal, and Elven army were told a few more assurances before marching on to the Dark Gates...

* * *

Eragon was flying above the black stone formation upon Saphira, using the _skulblaka svénn _to survey the land below. Eragon saw that most of the infantry had either an arm or leg amputated or cut off. He concluded that they were forces from Dras-Leona itself.

Three people, two men and a woman, rode upon horses, scepters in their hand, capes billowing in the air. They must be the last spellcasters in Galbatorix's army... but something about them bothered Eragon. He had felt it before, but he couldn't put a finger on it.

_They do have spellcasters..._ Eragon said grimly to Saphira.

_But we have more than enough energy to defeat them. More troops also. If you look, their numbers lie between six and nine-hundred._

_And after the bloodshed..._

_it's back to Ellésmera..._

_to finish the festival..._

_and select a king..._

_for Alagäesia..._

Saphira and Eragon closed their eyes as they reversed course to the Varden to report. Nasuada nodded and sent the troops forward, sending one of the Du Vangr Gata to search for traps in the ground. Three were disposed of before Helgrind was in sight. The soldiers waited until the right moment: designated by a sounding roar.

"_RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!"_

The Varden poured into the encampment, attacking every soldier in sight. Alarmed, the spellcasters turned around, uttering words in the Ancient Language to either maim the Varden or bolster their forces. Artificial lightning and blue green light shone on the Empire's soldiers. But where was the woman spellcaster?

Three minutes later, only a small group of Dras-Leonians remained, and one active, yet exhausted, spellcaster (the second one fainted due to lack of energy while trying to uphold the stream of lightning). As the Varden completed their circle, a bloodcurdling cry sounded form within Helgrind. Everyone turned to look.

"Shade's blood..." Murtagh cursed. "This is _not_ good..."

"I hope it isn't what I think it is..." Brom whispered through gritted teeth and with wide eyes.

"What?" Eragon shouted. "Why are we stopped?"

Eragon's question was answered by a flood of powerful consciousness, enveloping the ranks. The cry similar to those of banshees sounded in everyone's ears. Or so Eragon saw. Through his squinted eyes, he saw the Dras-Leonians gripping their heads as they were crushed by the pressure, rising into the air like darkened spirits.

The Varden's ranks started to flee as they heard Nasuada's orders to retreat, away from the burning damage. "No!" Brom said, struggling to his knees. "Not another _Shade_!"

_Shade?_ Eragon's mind flickered. _First Durza... then Varaug... each more powerful than the first..._

The pressure vanished. "What..." Arya asked, rising to her feet.

"Was that," Murtagh finished.

"A Shade..." Eragon forced out.

"No..." Brom corrected. "A..."

But Brom was cut short as a force of compressed air blew them backwards. A woman in dark garments appeared from Helgrind. Her hair was bright crimson. Her face, although, was more paler than that of Durza or Varaug's. In her hand was a jagged sword, almost like a saw. It was midnight black.

Black like the void.

"I am Atrea," the woman said. "Fear us."

"A Spectre!" Murtagh exclaimed. He jumped up, brandished Zar'roc and punctured Atrea's chest. For a moment, he thought Murtagh had succeeded in killing whatever she was, until Murtagh was forced back into a tree.

Murtagh coughed. "Caught my sword..."

_More powerful than Varaug..._

_A _Spectre_... _Eragon thought. _So that's what Morzan was turning into. With excess spirits... But I have to end this!_

Eragon jumped up, joining his half-brother. In the fight, Brisingr and Zar'roc seemed to flash purple as they fended off the black sword.

"You think," Atrea said, "you can defeat me? Not with Eldäftaka-Kratan!"

Her sword moved in a blur, slicing a shallow cut in Eragon's hauberk. Eragon's strength faltered for a second, and his mind flickered. _What..._

"_Soul-stealer?_" Murtagh shouted. "Eragon, get up!"

_Do you feel it?_ The mind of the Spectre echoed in Eragon's mind. _With every wound you take, you lose a piece of your soul. To get that piece back... I'll leave that to you to solve._

Eragon staggered to his feet. He raised his sword in time to block Eldäftaka-Kratan, yet was forced back onto one knee. Murtagh snuck behind Atrea and hacked at her sword arm. It went limp for a second, then the skin mended itself. But Eragon had already rolled away.

_Wait..._ Eragon thought, _where are Brom and Arya?_ He turned to see them immobilized, sweat clinging to their faces. Eragon resolved that they were mentally battling with the Spectre's mind. But the Spectre showed no signs of faltering when she warded off Murtagh's blows. Maybe Eragon could free them somehow...

_Saphira!_ He shouted mentally. _Thorn! Attack Atrea's mind or we'll die!_

The immediate force of the dragons' minds were powerful enough to bend trees and send Atrea flying backward, and by mistake, making Murtagh swing Zar'roc into a tree. Murtagh had to wrench the tree in half to free his sword. Behind Eragon, Brom and Arya fell to their knees, panting. When a modicum of strength returned to them, they drew their swords from their sheaths and joined Murtagh and Eragon.

"You're okay?" Eragon asked Arya, slightly worried.

"Fine," Arya replied. "Hard time trying to fend off whatever it is."

Brom shifted Undbitr to a tighter grip. "Careful," he cautioned, "once it battles with your mind, it leaves a piece of its consciousness in you. They are fairly weak, but once they hold you, it's nigh impossible to withdraw from it. It would take a large distraction to get rid of the attack."

Eragon nodded, and turned; seeing Atrea rise from Helgrind. Her clothes were different: a sleeve was nearly taken off, a few rips, and one section of the torso was sheared off; showing a tunic underneath. Atrea sped forward, swinging her saw sword at Eragon. Sensing danger, Murtagh took Undbitr by its half of the hand-and-a-half hilt (in surprise, Brom let go of Undbitr when Murtagh did the initial grab) and swung the aquamarine blade in a graceful arc. First, there was a flash, then a bang. Atrea was out of sight.

Murtagh handed Undbitr back to Brom hilt-first. "Sorry," Murtagh apologized. "I shall try to warn you next time."

Brom accepted the sword. "Where did she go?"

Murtagh smiled, beckoned everyone to follow. Murtagh then disappeared behind a tree. Eragon looked around to see Atrea's body pierced by a sword rigged to a tree. Judging by how it pierced her, she probably ran into the sword.

"I was actually saving that trap for the Ra'zac," Murtagh explained. "Before we met on the road and I saved you from them."

"Turned out it worked for the better," Eragon said.

"Yes!" Murtagh clasped his half-brother on the back. "Now a Kingkiller and a Spectreslayer. Too bad you have one more than me: Bane of the Ra'zac."

"Redeemer of the Forsworn," Eragon suggested.

"Sure," Murtagh agreed. "Now nothing can get past us! We're to powerful for anything!"

"Don't get cocky," Eragon said. "You never know when a horde of Ra'zac are hunting you down."

The group walked away from the old booby-trap, and Atrea dispersed into forgotten spirits. One... which will come again...

* * *

"Saphira!" Eragon said. "Let's mount up. We're heading back to Ellésmera."

With a triumphant roar, the Dragon Riders soared into the air, a cheering Varden bidding them good-bye. Once they approached the sands of the Hadarac, Arya hugged Eragon's waist. "The reconstruction will begin," she said.

"With the green dragon's Rider..." Eragon finished. "And I hope he or she will arrive soon. But for now, the Festival resumes?"

* * *

**A/N: Sorry this update took a while. And it's shorter than it looked on paper. Hmm... did I miss anything?**

**Eragon: You sure did take out a lot of stuff.**

**Me: Eragon, just shut up, or I'll place you in that cage with Galbatorix,_ without_ Brisingr. And Galbatorix has his sword.**

**Eragon: [shuts up, terrified]**

**Brom: Well, he can be a loudmouth in these Author's Notes.**

**Murtagh: I kinda agree.**

**Me: Well, I now only have Eragon to worry about. Now what?**

**Green Egg: I WANT TO HATCH!**

**Me: Okay... that'll take... like... two chapters or so... [turns to Brom] How'd the egg get here?**

**Brom: [shrugs]**

**Me: Okay, now everyone but Eragon, just say it. I'm going to bed.**

**Everyone but Eragon: READ AND REVIEW!**

**You know you want to. The link is right there.**

**\ /**

**\ /**

**V**


	10. Kindred Spirits

**Disclaimer: Okay. I'm running out of ideas for the disclaimer. I think the story should just roll on...**

**Eragon: I didn't get to say anything!**

**Me: [sighs] Eragon... can you just shut up for at least a disclaimer?**

**Eragon: No.**

**Murtagh: Seriously... his voice kind of gets annoying at times. I wish he could shut up at times too, I hear it so many times in the storyline already...**

**Brom: I agree. Even though I created him or something...**

**Arya: Now that you mention it...**

**Eragon: Whaa...! I thought...**

**Me: Roll the storyline!**

**Eragon: He clearly doesn't own the Inheritance Cycle!**

**Me: Dammit, just roll the storyline!**

* * *

Chapter 9: Kindred Spirits

After passing Gilderien the Wise, Eragon, Brom, Arya, Murtagh, Thorn, and Saphira walked to the heart of Ellésmera, where they saw Islanzadí watching Alanna and Dusan having their first time with mock swords. The queen watched the party of six come, quietly leaving the children to their twosome.

"I trust the battle went well?" the queen asked, after addressing the greetings.

"It seemed fine," Murtagh answered, "until we had to four-on-one a Spectre."

Islanzadí raised an eyebrow. "Spectre?"

_Some eviler rendition of a Shade, apparently,_ Saphira quoted.

Islanzadí started nodding. She looked down, seeing Dusan tugging at her dress. "Islanzadí-elda," he said. "Can we get back to the sparring thingy?"

Arya threw a quick glare at Dusan. It was disrespectful to call the queen by her first name. Islanzadí laughed, told Arya it was okay, and then said to Dusan, "Why don't you let Brom teach you? He can show just as good as I can."

"Okay!" And the old man stooped down to teach the children.

"They are growing quite fast," Eragon commented.

"Yes," Islanzadí replied. "They are. May even be able to fight off a Shade by the time they reach twenty years from now."

"And the Festival?" Eragon asked.

Islanzadí smiled. "Tomorrow. Everyone is tired, and most of the elves are not back yet. So we'll have the remaining elves return before resuming the Festival."

Eragon nodded. "I understand."

Everyone dispersed throughout Ellésmera. Murtagh joined Brom, Arya followed her mother into the Tialdarí Hall, so Eragon, all alone, decided to go to the Crags of Tel'naeír. Eragon seated himself on the stump in the glade, closed his eyes, and spread his mind out.

_Nothing._

_Nothing but the trees..._

_Nothing but the trees and the animals..._

_Nothing but the little lights in the dark..._

Suddenly, a monster conscience entered Eragon's mind. Due to his instinct, Eragon moved up his defenses around his mind, but the conscience plowed right through, as if it were a paper fence in a tornado. Eragon could only see nothing... but a swirl of rainbow lights.

_Eragon..._

Eragon recoiled at the words. _Who are you?_

_The first. Your first. Why do you ask? There is no need to ask. The only thing... is to thank you._

_Thank me for what?_

_For releasing my spirit from the hands of those dirty sorcerers. They are the reason I was angry enough to create a Spectre. It was my energy that fueled those blows and crafted Eldäftaka-Kratan. And you saved me. I knew you could come back._

_But... who are you?_

_Do you not remember? It is me!_

Eragon was enveloped in a tunnel of light, he found himself standing at the top of a mountain. In every direction was the sea, where to the east lay mountains among a forest. Below the mountain was a small city, bustling with figures.

_Where..._ Then it hit him. He was standing on Vroengard. The city below him was Dorú Areaba. The mountain range was the Spine.

_You remember..._ the voice hummed. The figure of a white dragon stood before Eragon. A faint scratch rested on the dragon's eye. Its wings were outstretched, the wingspan of about three shoulder-to-shoulder men. Sharp claws protruded from its paws.

_Bid..._ Eragon said,_ Bid'Duam..._

_You remember! _The white dragon said. _Are you okay, Eragon?_

Eragon blinked. _I'm... fine. But... why am I here? What about the rainbow dragon?_

_Rainbow dragon?_ Bid'Duam asked. _I do not know of any dragons with even two hues of color._

_He thinks I'm actually the first Eragon, _Eragon thought. _But why am I having this? I'm supposed to be at the Crags of Tel'naeír, right?_

_You're thinking,_ Bid'Duam said.

_I am._

_About what?_

_The present._

The dragon huffed, a swirl of smoke rising into the air. _Stop talking in riddles Eragon! It nearly drives me crazy. It's bad enough Queen Tarmunora sent us Riders here to Vroengard to govern ourselves._

_Tarmunora...Right..._ Eragon thought. _I'm back in the Past. This is like a remnant of some person's past, maybe Eragon the First's, or some other..._

_You're thinking again,_ growled Bid'Duam.

_I am._

Bid'Duam looked into the horizon. Silver ships dotted the sea. A setting sun was disappearing, and a few stars could be seen. Eragon sighed, got down and sat on the ground. The white dragon plodded over to Eragon's side and set himself next to Eragon.

_Sometimes I wish it were like this,_ Bid'Duam said._ Just you and me. Nothing in the world to separate us. Just two kindred spirits in the world._

_Kindred spirits..._ Eragon repeated. _The two of us..._

And everything faded to black.

* * *

Eragon found himself staring at the sky. He tried to remember where he was, but his head hurt. He saw in front of him an old stump. A glade of long grasses surrounded Eragon.

_What... was that?_ Eragon asked himself. He tried to remember how long it had been. He looked at the sun, about midday. It was probably a few minutes that he had probably dozed off or something. _But it felt like more than a few minutes..._

Eragon got up to his feet. He thought he saw something in the sky, but it passed over the trees before he could comprehend what it was. Eragon then got an idea in his head and dove into Oromis' hut.

Sure enough, the scrolls of the Alagäesian history were still there. He took the scroll mentioning Bid'Duam, skimming the text until he found the part of his death; the same as the First Eragon's. It read:

_Bid'Duam died at Eragon's side, when a mysterious disease overtook the first Rider. The two were sent to the depths of Du Weldenvarden, never to be laid by any eyes for eternity. Any elves had forgotten of the sacred burial ground. But it is said, that for unknown purposes and reasons, that the spirit of either Bid'Duam or Eragon I will roam around Alagäesia. Sometimes, they enter someone's mind, and what happens next is unknown. Few people collapse after a spirit enters them, and even fewer remember what they saw._

Eragon closed the scroll, setting it back on the rack. _So why was I given a time lapse?_ Eragon asked. _And why did I remember what I saw._

His mind flashed back to the "vision." He heard Bid'Duam say again:

_Just two kindred spirits in the world._

It was so vivid and real, that Eragon thought he heard it again in reality. Eragon frowned. It was a dilemma that actually puzzled him, more than the puzzle ring before he was a human, or even when deciding to make a death field in some part of Dras-Leona, or even trying to figure out a passcode to find Galbatorix's armory. It was confusing.

Eragon whirled around at the presence of another conscience. He saw Arya standing at the doorway, dressed in her green tunic. Eragon was a loss for words, so he merely stated, "Hi."

Arya smiled. She walked inside, and put a hand on Eragon's shoulder. "How was your meditation?"

"Okay, I guess," Eragon said. "But I... never mind."

Arya sensed his hesitation. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing. I'm fine."

"You seem as if you don't want to talk to me. Did I come in at the wrong time?"

"No," Eragon said, shaking his head. "It was fine that you came in."

Arya looked down. "It seemed to me that you were in the middle of something. I thought I interrupted."

"No, it's not that. I was thinking..." Eragon decided not to talk about his talk with Bid'Duam in his vision. "...thinking about my namesake."

"Eragon I?"

"Yes, kind of."

"Kind of?"

Eragon looked down. "About what he would have felt in Vroengard. When Tarmunora sent the Riders there."

"Strange thought," Arya said. "But interesting, nonetheless."

Eragon's lips twitched a smile. "Thanks."

"Were you getting lonely?"

"Not really, since I thought you had business with Queen Islanzadí. Brom and Murtagh went to teach Alanna and Dusan about swordplay, and Saphira and Thorn left on some hunting trip or other what-not."

"Did you feel lonely?"

"Not with Oromis' grave right behind me. It almost felt he was watching me out the window, while writing a poem or story." Eragon sighed. "I miss him."

"We all do, remember?"

Eragon looked back. His master. He missed Oromis the most. He was the one who taught him the Rimgar. He was the one who taught him the twelve words of death. He was the one who helped improve his skills. He was the Rider of the one who gave him further instruction. And most of all, Oromis was the one who saved him from the conscience of Durza and his memories being Carsaib.

Eragon grimaced to hide his grief. Every time he thought of Oromis being dead threatened to make him start bawling. Arya saw his face contort, and put a hand on his shoulder. "It just bothers me to accept his death," Eragon said.

"I understand," Arya said. "Remember, we elves are all kindred spirits dwelling upon the last Elder being killed by the usurper."

_Kindred spirits._

_Just two kindred spirits in the world,_ Bid'Duam's words reverberated in Eragon's mind.

"That comforts me to know that I am not alone in the grief."

"If you listen closely to Glaedr's Eldunarí, you can hear him brooding over it. I heard it when we were landing on Saphira."

Eragon nodded. Eragon started out the door, taking a look at Oromis' copy for the fairth of Ileria. He smiled as the fairth went out of view as the sun dipped below the trees.

_Tomorrow,_ Eragon thought, _we are back to the Festival. And the rest of the rebellion was just that long. I don't believe we even wiped out a couple thousand people in just a day._

_Everything seems fast all of a sudden,_ Saphira commented. _Even I sometimes think we just left Carvahall with Brom, and we just killed the last line of ethereal beings._

_And now we are selecting a king and queen to rule the Broddring Kingdom. And many more adventures await us after that._

_Yes. And what do we know about lands across the Broddring Ocean?_

_I do not know, Saphira. Things are being more cluttered as we speak. May we leave this for tomorrow?_

_I'll hold you onto your word. Good night, little one._

_Good night, Saphira. _The two withdrew from their contact. Eragon went into his tree, falling onto the elven bed, falling into a deep slumber in just a few seconds.

* * *

**A/N: Sorry this took so long. First, I started a Princess Mononoke Fic. Second, I successfully managed to lock everyone out except for myself with the complex magic that not even _ma'mor _could unlock the door.**

**Eragon: _Ma'mor!_ Father, for the sixth time, can you do this already?**

**Me: Anyways, sorry to my fellow readers. Now I have two stories to worry about... maybe you like anime created by the guy who made _Nasuicaa of the Valley of the Wind_, and _Laputa - Castle in the Sky_. The third is... _Princess Mononoke_. Guess I shouldn't hand out spoilers like free candy now...**

**READ AND REVIEW! RIGHT THERE!**


	11. Continuation and Conclusion

**A/N: Okay, guys. I know you've had your vacation since last October 13th, 2010, but it's time to go to work!**

**Eragon: Yay!**

**Me: Eragon, there is no OCS here in the building. Unless you wish to sleep with the Ra'zac tonight, _control your _*bleep*_-ing self!_**

**Eragon: [stunned] ...he cussed at me.**

**Brom: You deserved it.**

**Eragon: Some father you are.**

**Saphira:_ If you weren't so loquacious during the Author's Notes, you wouldn't be having this to deal with. You should have just listened to Kai back there._**

**Me: [rolls eyes] Well, at least _someone_ remembered I put my alias on my Profile Page...**

**Arya: Along with that new copy-written Fanfiction-dot-net logo on there too? Let's just hope some admin doesn't ban you.**

**Thorn: _I wish I could experience that... I would love to go back to Paolini's Author's Notes... if he even had one..._**

**Murtagh: I guess this is every main character here. Hey, did anyone see Greenie?**

**Green Egg: _Over here!_ [knocks on door]**

**Murtagh: Oh, at least that egg can talk. Can I go open the door?**

**Me: Knock yourself out, Murtagh. Two, I have another story to deal with, one that doesn't have cast in my Author's Notes room. And, three, National Novel Writing Month is up for me. And finally...**

**Eragon: [pauses] Yes...**

**Me: [hopeless] Oh, God. Please let them know what I want them to do...**

**Arya: Just say it already!**

**Me: Read and Review, dammit!**

**Eragon: I knew it...!**

**Me: Just so you know... I finished this chapter during the deadline. Now just shut up for a change before I write you to shut up. Don't disturb me during NaNoWriMo either.**

**Eragon: What's... [cut off by story]**

* * *

Chapter 10: Continuation to Conclusion

Eragon's eyes were greeted by a bright morning sun. A bird flitted onto a tree branch and cocked it head at Eragon. "Good morning," he said. The bird chirped, its meaning eluding Eragon. And so, Eragon pulled aside the covers, slipped on his tunic, belted on the Belt of Beloth the Wise, and strapped on Brisingr and its sheath.

_How was your night?_ Saphira asked as Eragon passed by.

_It was a good night's sleep, because this time I didn't have any vision,_ commented Eragon. _You?_

_I was fine. You should go to Islanzadí. She is waiting for your arrival._

Eragon looked around. The elves were tending to their usual business, nothing big was happening. There were some elves sparring, but nothing else captured Eragon attention about having any ceremony of sorts.

Eragon started walking around. He saw Murtagh standing near Rhunön's forge. Eragon quickly ran up to his half-brother, who turned as he approached. "Another Rider..." Rhunön rasped from her anvil.

"Greetings, Rhunön-elda," Eragon said. "Atra esterní ono thelduin."

"Are you going to watch or are you going to request something?"

"Watch." Rhunön then returned to her work as if nothing happened. Eragon turned to Murtagh saying "good morning."

"Morning, Eragon," Murtagh replied. "By the way, have you seen Thorn? He's been acting up lately. He's moving a lot more than usual."

"No. Come to think of it, Saphira and Thorn are spending more time with each other."

"And I'm just guessing what they're at."

"It's either they are becoming more close or they are trying to get Thorn to change his attitude." The two half-brothers grinned and left the forge. Around the Menoa Tree, they saw a few elves gathering, so they decided to check it out.

Islanzadí stood on the platform above the rest of the elves there, with Blagden sitting on her shoulder. She noticed Eragon, and when Eragon seated himself, she then said aloud, "A king knows how to make decisions. A king knows how to lead forces into battle. Time consuming situations await you, all of which will entangle your mind and test your strategy.

"Also, a king is omniscient. A king must see all to rule all. Only a select few will achieve these results." Islanzadí clapped her hands and a sheet of wood with parchments and sticks appeared in front of Eragon and the other elves. "The one who finishes these first will be selected to be king.

Now Eragon realized why the other elves hadn't come to watch this. It was not critical enough, even though it was the final task to select a king. _But why am I participating?_ Eragon asked himself. _Why am I trying so hard to become something I never wanted to become?_ The reason was maybe he wanted to surpass every kind of knowledge he was revealed to. Or maybe it was to test how much skill he had acquired acquired over the past year. No... it was more than that. His thoughts led him to one person, the only one he wished to be with:

Arya...

"_Wyrda!" _Blagden crowed from Islanzadí's shoulder. The second later, Eragon was immersed in the words on the parchments. The first one had words written on it: a battle plan.

_Two cities are at war, and you are both evenly matched. You have population control, while the other had a higher gold flow. How shall you win?_

Two cities. One with more population and one with more money flow. The population of the first city (or Eragon's city) could have more forces to overwhelm the other city. But their higher money flow could allow them to have either more mercenary forces or more higher quality weapons. But wouldn't population overwhelm the forces over their mercenary army or higher quality weapons and low population?

Also, people had to get the gold flow going, so not many people could be selling or buying. But in a higher population city, you could find the maximum number of people to gather money, supply the government, and then have the other people or most of the other people to war.

Eragon rubbed his temples, the strategic scenarios hurt his brain. Much thinking would be needed to win a war, not just brute force. More money could be pooled in for higher quality items, allowing the population already there to be readily armed, while the other city would have to pool their money separately for mercenary and weaponry. Eragon's city could then attack, quickly overwhelming the city's defenses, swarm over mercenary and hastily placed weapons.

So that's what Eragon wrote. A small notch was placed below the top of the table, and a stream of wind was coursing into it. Eragon slipped the parchment inside, and it disappeared. Amazed, Eragon returned to the other works that needed to be done. The second wrote:

_Take from me to make me become bigger, but give to me to make me smaller._

Eragon glared at the words, dumbstruck. _What? Less to be bigger, more to be smaller? If any possible, few things are like that..._

And of the few things, Eragon could either not recall or they never have been revealed to Eragon. _Take to become bigger... give to become smaller..._

_Take... big..._

_Give... small..._

_What?_

A matter of patience now gripped Eragon. He could not recall what had to be his answer. For where he searched were holes, just voids in his mind.

_Oh. Wait. What?_

**A/N: I would have face-palmed at this failure... You may keep reading.**

Now it seemed to Eragon that the holes either spread or gotten bigger. _Oh, that's right. Holes._ And with that realization, Eragon face-palmed, berating himself for being stupid to forget something so elementary as a hole, and wrote down "hole" and slipping that paper in the notch. The paper disappeared into the chute.

The third paper was yet another riddle. Eragon realized that even though this was to be the last test, it was also the most inactive. People hunched over papers with quills in their hands and slipping pieces of papers in little slots. He sighed as he read the words:

_I never was, yet always will be. I am never seen, yet I always come. I carry nothing, yet hold much for some._

_Nope, don't know this..._

Helplessly, Eragon lifted a palm to his face, scratching the wood table with the point of the quill. Nothing responded in his mind, couldn't grasp the word that would have been the answer to this riddle. He obviously knew it wasn't a god, in which the elves didn't believe in. It was neither that wind, which carries a current. It couldn't be an object, which had to be seen.

Many less ideas carried nothing. Happiness, sadness, pain, and love were all discarded by the fact that they all held something, as with all emotions. The other ideas had to do with science, according to seasons and days. Months carried weeks, those days, and then all condensed in fractions of a second.

But as Eragon went more precise, he realized he was making progress, only leaving the words of _yesterday_ and _tomorrow_.

Yesterday held the past, and tomorrow held the future. But the past is the past, and the future is ever shifting, almost to the fact it was...

_Damn, I'm such a failure..._

The paper slipped inside the chute, and Eris mind was tired for deductive reasoning, and realization that he was actually stupid. He first blamed being isolated in Carvahall, but that wouldn't help since the isolation brought him to this day.

But looking back at the table, he found that he only had one more piece of parchment. When he looked at it, all it said was:

_One more test awaits you. Speak your name to the queen and announce you are ready to proceed to the final task and become the leader of Du Weldenvarden. _

_I don't want to be king..._ echoed his words.

_It is your destiny..._ a voice in the back of his head said.

_Destiny... to be king is not my destiny._

_Was not you destiny. It is your rightful place. To give up such an honor would not help._ Eragon blacked out, finding himself in a dark space, the rainbow dragon before him.

_What do you want? _Eragon asked unconsciously, almost angered he had to be something he didn't want to be.

_There is more than just the visions you see._ The dragon blinked its multicolored eye. _There is more than why you were unable to solve the puzzles in your head, as well as the meeting we are having right now._

_Why have you brought me here?_

_This... what you are all experiencing, is of my doing._ A wisp of white light rose from the ground beside the rainbow dragon. It materialized into a white dragon; Bid'Duam.

_Eragon!_

_Bid'Duam? How'd..._

_There's a reason he's still alive, hatchling. I govern all souls and lives in this world. I keep things in place. Without me, the world you know would be in disarray._

_Things are in disarray! I'm not supposed to be a king! I'm just a Rider who set things straight!_

_When you killed Galbatorix, you made a decision; there will be a new ruler. And the rulers now are fat and nuisances. They are not fit to rule a land such as Alagäesia. You on the other hand, have experienced the iron fist Galbatorix set on this land._

_That iron fist was more than just iron. It was evil._

The dragon roared. _Not evil! There is no _evil_ in the world, unless some unnatural is unleashed. Galbatorix did something drastic, but not evil. Know that, hatchling._

Bid'Duam looked up at the rainbow dragon. _He knows why he participates in this event we set up, right? Or maybe he forgot over time?_

_Bid'Duam, he knows. He wishes to be with one person; he told himself that before this portion began. _The rainbow dragon faced Eragon. _A farm boy, whose life fortune had been told by one of my brethren, has told it true. The true meaning of the fortune was to be one of noble birth, also connecting to your infinite life._

Eragon grimaced, surprised. _This... was all... a set up...?_

_Correct. And let me guess, hatchling, that why is the purpose of setting one's life... if the one who set it already knows every aspect and miniscule detail in that one's life... and _let_ him experience it?_ The dragon stomped its paw. _To see if that one's fate... is sealed or changeable. _Bid'Duam faded within space with every word the dragon spoke. _Is you life changeable... or is it sealed? Hmm, Edoc'sil Hjuarta abr Istalri Draumar?_

The sound of his true name didn't faze Eragon. He had no time to wonder why it was this. He was supposed to be staring at the speaker with a blank expression, every part of him numb. But he wasn't. Either his will or his true name... _changed_. In an instant.

_Send me back. The true outcome of my life is unknown._

_Why...? You realize the weight of the world, the sins and blessings of the world, are on you? You realize the world is in need of one, whose life changed so much, that the world is basically your responsibility?_

_What are you talking about?_

_Your life... was supposed to be taken from you when you were still in Carvahall. You life was then supposed to be taken by the Urgals in Yaz'uac. Then in Dras-Leona, when the Ra'zac found you in the cathedral. Then countless more events, all of which you feigned death. You know your fortune well, do you?_

Angela's words reverberated in Eragon's mind. _Countless futures await you – all filled with blood and conflict..._

_Those countless futures,_ Eragon said, almost a whisper,_ were my deaths...?_

_Correct._

_And the purpose of it was... another plan and use for me?_

The dragon blinked. _Correct,_ it said, lifting its head higher. _You now realize the world is on your shoulders. Now go, Edoc'sil Varden abr Brisingara Krataní. Finish what needs to be done on this war torn land._ The dragon roared, and brought its paw on the invisible ground again, the cracks forming a bird shaped figure, instead of the gedwëy ignasia. The floor gave away, and like shadows, the place he was at swept back at him.

According to the amount of light and the ignorance of the elves, little time had passed during the vision. Murtagh tapped Eragon on his shoulder and asked, "Why the pause?"

Eragon looked slightly astounded. "Pause...? It was all a pause...?"

"A few seconds actually," Murtagh confirmed.

Eragon stared at the parchment in his hand; the words stared at him back. _King... is it really my destiny to do this? And leave from the lowest to the highest..._

_But it is what I feel. I feel as if this is the thing for me. I can set things right._

_To be a king isn't what I envisioned. It was going back to farming and hunting at Carvahall and the Spine._

_Stay as a farm boy? Saphira chose _you_ to rebuild her race. If you were to return to Carvahall, none of these would have been done. You would be devoid of all trust, the Empire would kill you because you possessed Galbatorix's only female egg, or let you live if you were to become Forsworn. Did you want that to happen?_

The point was made. If Eragon stayed after the Ra'zac died meant his imminent death, unless Eragon decided to make the new Forsworn. He would not have been able to have a new sword, have something to live fore, as well as being able to speak to his mother for the first time. All of this... were the blessings and gifts of the rainbow dragon.

All because of the rainbow dragon that he was able to accomplish these things... "Murtagh?"

"Yeah, Eragon?"

"I need to ask you of something."

"What is it, I can do, unless it is moving a mountain of course." Murtagh chuckled. "Say it, and I will try my best."

"No, wait. The time is not right. This is just a warning then." Eragon rose from his seat, proclaiming, "I, Eragon Bromsson, wish to proceed to the final task. I am ready to take my responsibility as a king, and will protect whoever is accepted into whichever realm I rule, and take full responsibility for measures and problems within this realm. Eka deraicsja orthyde."

The elves there looked at Eragon and stared at him with a surprised expression. Murtagh stood there bewildered as well. Islanzadí stood, and said, "Eragon-finiarel, you have decided to take trials in which many do not pass in. You wish to partake the final test into kingship?"

"I am."

Islanzadí sighed. "Never has it been since a former human or even a half-breed have stepped into Du Weldenvarden and become selected as a king. Never has it been that a Rider must be chosen to rule the land of Alagäesia by proper means.

"You were the first, Eragon-finiarel. You were the first since we landed here on nigh over a thousand years ago. And this... may change you mind, even though I highly think you can do this."

"What are you talking about, Islanzadí-svit kona?"

"You have to experience it for yourself. The killing of those closest to you... by your own hand..." The elven queen clapped her hands, and behind a shroud of forest leaves stood Arya in her black leather wear, her sword strapped to her side.

"Eragon..." she said, more bewildered than the elves behind Eragon.

"The last task, Eragon-finiarel, is to _kill Arya_."

* * *

**A/N: Cliffys before going on hiatus! Man, gotta love that...**

**I'm actually sorry, but that's that before you get Chapter 11 and 12, or even Chapter 13 in December. Please, Read and Review.**

**Oh, one more thing. Since I made Eragon so annoying in the Author's Notes, I'm thinking of taking out the little intro part. If you wish to support or oppose this claim, you can add that in a little review. The actual reason is that it should be a little A/N and let you have a better reading experience. Otherwise, you can keep Annoying Eragon, therefore risking his Author's Note Life by going into the Ra'zac's Den.**

**Thank you all for your support! Read and Review!**


	12. The Duel of the Shadeslayers

**A/N: Okay, I have successfully omitted Eragon from the Author's Notes! Now what shall we do with this great event?**

**Arya: I don't know. Things seems so quiet without Eragon.**

**Brom: Now that you think of it, yes, things do seem a bit quiet. How is it, Kai?**

**Me: [kicks back] This will do just fine. Thanks to the vote "xlightningz" submitted with his review. Now we can get more done.**

**Saphira: _How are you going to make these Author's Notes longer now?_**

**Me: [thinks for a moment] That is a good question, Saphira, that is a good question.**

**Murtagh: How 'bout a few mini-fics?**

**Me: Nah, that'll take too long.**

**Green Egg: _You sure took a smooth move coming from the author. You just relieved a few lines in the AN._**

**Me: Yeah... I know, right?**

**Green Egg: [would have face-palmed if had hands] _I'm pissed at your guts._**

**Me: Hey, I can easily scramble you like an egg.**

**Murtagh: Uhh, he is an egg.**

**Me: Oh, screw it, start the story line!**

**Brom: Besides, where is my son anyway?**

* * *

Chapter 11: The Duel of the Shadeslayers

Eragon stood deep in shock. _It's not supposed to be this way..._

"Draw your swords!" he heard Islanzadí say.

_No. I thought we, Arya and I, had talked about sparring at one point after Galbatorix died, but it wasn't meant to be like this..._

"Eragon!" Murtagh cried, "don't do this! You have a whole life ahead of you!"

_Then a life..._

"Draw your swords!"

Eragon grit his teeth. The proposed Duel of the Shadeslayers had taken a turn. It wasn't meant to be to the death. It was supposed to be a test of proficiency. Never to select a king, but to select a better swordsman. With bile in his mouth, Eragon wordlessly slid Brisingr from its sheath, the sapphire blade catching a glint of light.

"Eragon!" Murtagh screamed. "What in the blazes are you doing?"

Eragon stared at Arya, what might be the last of seeing his beloved. Eragon asked with a nod, and Arya responded with the same gesture, drawing her elven sword, crouching into he battle stance. Eragon sighed before entering his battle position.

At this point, the two were frozen, the only movement between them the rise and fall of their bodies due to breathing. A crowd had seemed to form, initially gasping at the match-up. Whispers of "What, the half-breed... in the final trial?", "Wait, aren't they supposed to be engaged or something?", and some "No way!"'s to top it off. Almost the whole city had come.

Eragon spotted Vanír speaking to Murtagh, catching the words, "...going on? Why is Eragon... the princess?"

"... trail. By decree... Islanzadí."

"What?"

Eragon expected Rhunön to come, but she wasn't visible in his peripheral vision. He decided she was alone in her forge, hammering away. He also thought if Arya wasn't the one fighting, she would have forced her to come watch with her in the sidelines.

**A/N: Suggested you go to YouTube and listen to "Siege of Madrigal." Yes, it's the first video. Don't worry, it's just a slide-show of Halo Screenshots. You might have to replay it sometimes. This is only a suggestion.**

A string instrument being plucked started playing in the background, a light sweet sounding tune. It rose and fell, and nonetheless stopped some tension. Then the tune got thicker, combining with the other string instruments. Then a light melody tuned in, with some choir.

"The final stage of the festival is about to begin," Islanzadí said over the music. "If anyone wishes to decline this selected happening for who shall be king, speak now, or before ever silent. Who denies that Eragon-finiarel shall be crowned king?"

No one spoke. Eragon knew deep inside that it was his destiny to become king. No elf denied that, given his prowess in combat. He was labeled as the Savior to Alagäesia, and Slayer of Galbatorix. No one denied that he could be king, but although some held great envy for his acceptance into kingship when he was a half-breed.

Yet no one spoke out.

"The final trial," Islanzadí cried out, her voice unfaltering, "shall begin when appropriate." She turned to Blagden, whom Eragon was sure wasn't there before, and nodded. Blagden shook out a loose stray feather, then outstretching his wings and crowed, "_Wyrda_!"

Eragon saw initiative to charge and hack away, but felt no compulsion to do just that. If it was anyone else, he would have let his body take over, jamming through any kind of opening that would see him fit. But the one before him was Arya. The only one whom he could not kill.

_This is the fate of my life..._ Eragon thought. _To kill one I love most..._

_It must be done,_ a deep conscience said within his head. _For the sake of the world, it must be done. You know what you must do._

Eragon blinked. Almost in unison, both he and Arya raised their swords, ready for combat. Eragon sent a tendril of thought to Arya's mind. Probably thinking it was to talk, Arya allowed him through, allowing him to privately speak to each other.

_Has the queen gone insane? _Eragon asked.

_I doubt it,_ Arya replied. _But I highly don't partake of this competition. It's too high of risk to have one so important to die for the upbringing of a new ruler._

_That is what I had thought. If I were to die, you would rule alone. I, rule alone as well. Either way, it is a loss-loss situation. We would, either way, still be alone._

_But how does this work out? There must be a way for my father and mother to be alive to sire me._

_I do not know. But this is uncalled for, this... slaughter._

_I doubt it is counted slaughter. There must be some hidden reason that the queen would decree this. But..._

_I know not where this leads us,_ Eragon concluded, _but we cannot just stand here and chat._ He glared at Islanzadí for a quick second. _I doubt even more that the queen will think highly of us having this conversation._

_But..._

_If I were to kill you, I am coming to come get you._

_I know you would,_ Arya curtly replied.

_Should this be our last battle, _Eragon said,_ allow us to have this time only to ourselves._

_Of course._ The two withdrew from each other, concentrating on their proposed fight.

The tune of the music was still going on as the two steeled themselves.

One second. _Do it now._

Two seconds. _But then..._

Three seconds. _You know what to do. Just spare her. She would do the same... _A tear rolled out of Eragon's right eye, sliding down his cheek as he and Arya charged at each other with a single bound.

The initial jump of ten feet across brought them together in a half-second, sparks raining on the ground as their blades glanced off each other. If it weren't for the elvish make of the swords, the blades would have been reduced to a dagger of three inches with a rectangular blade.

Wheeling around in midair, Eragon caught traction under his boots, then breaking into a full dash with Brisingr in his right hand. Arya dashed toward him, twirling around with her sword as they came closer together. Their blades met in a small shower of sparks, then again in a larger flash as they hit each other with greater ferocity. It was more like dancing in a forge than a sparring contest.

The match stretched into the five minute mark, and Eragon started to sweat a little. The two of them were now evenly matched, ever since their first spar in Farthen Dûr, where Eragon was outmatched entirely. But now, the two tired at the same pace, and with the same ferocity. Sweating, because they were fighting for their lives. No longer did Arya show emotion. Her face was almost like a rock, only to wince when Eragon parried or dodged a well-timed strike. And no longer did she try to spare her love, which bothered Eragon.

Eragon whipped up Brisingr to block another strike by Arya. He parried another. They locked blades for a second before swiping away at each other again. Their blades clashed against each other with each stroke. Eragon jumped back to dodge another strike by Arya. As his boots touched ground, Arya's next strike nearly sent Brisingr out of Eragon's hand.

Unfazed, Eragon swung Brisingr over Arya's head, whom ducked at the last second, then sending a stab at Eragon's side. It grazed the side of Eragon's tunic, making a small tear in the fabric. Alarmed, Eragon swung an almost-too-powerful swing. Somewhat luckily, the blade caught on Arya's blade.

But, it deflected off her blade, traveled down the edge, then crashed into the guard, the only part unprotected by magic. Since the guard was only metal in Rider's swords, it splintered into pieces, the blade severed along with it. Arya grew wide eyed at the destruction to her weapon.

Eragon was also surprised at the force he had put into the stroke. The hilt, now of what remained of the weapon, slipped out of Arya's hands, who then looked spaced out, and fell to her knees. Eragon slowly raised Brisingr to Arya's neck, and paused.

Everyone was silent. But not because of Eragon's superiority, but of the princess's blade. For the first time in over a thousand years, Ellésmera fell silent.

Eragon stared into his love's eyes. He hoped to search an approval or even a tiny spark of happiness, but all he saw was...

Longing...

It was not her time to die; Eragon felt that. Also the fact that she was to die by her accepted made her long for life even more.

_What the hell are you doing, Eragon? _He asked himself. _Kill her and be done with it! Then to save the people of the world._

_No... I can't..._

_What do you mean you can't? You have her right beneath your blade!_

_No! Why would some person have to die by my hands? I have already killed so many!_

_This last death will mean in the preserving of many more._

_And the deaths of many more to preserve! No! All my life, death has surrounded me. First Garrow, because I didn't tell him beforehand about Saphira. Then Brom, because I was too weak. Then I lost Murtagh for not being strong enough and because of forgetting about Zar'roc. Then I lost so many others; Kvîstor, Oromis, and so many others, hose names I have never received. Everyone has died because of me! And this power has been bestowed upon me to save, not kill. A true Shur'tugal would now that, as well as a king!_

Eragon found no answer. Instead, the ripping of space and time opened again, and found himself facing the rainbow dragon, yet again.

_You are troubled by what has been set before you, are you not? _The dragon said, almost raising an eye.

_If I am to kill one that is in my way with an arm of evil, I shall not hesitate to slam his face into the ground. But one who was innocent of any evil, no mark shall brand itself on the one. But this is madness!_

_Madness, it is not._

_What?_

The dragon exhaled, a thin mist exiting his jowls. _You have done right, Eragon-elda. To banish wrong from right is what you have learned._

_Right...? What..._

_This exemplifies you have done much with your father and Oromis-elda. The two of your teachers have striven to mold you into the man you have become now, yet they never did have the chance. As you were fleeing from Dras-Leona, what was the last thing Brom taught you?_

Eragon blinked. His memory had died about his travels with Brom, but all he knew was that he didn't was to pick a fight with Galbatorix, and that Brom congratulated him for being cautious. But that wasn't the case.

_Magic? Or caution?_

_You remembered. And so, after caution, then comes suspicion, and what happens when you trust the one you suspect?_

Eragon now realized why Evandar and Islanzadí were able to sire Arya. One of them...

_Mercy... _Eragon whispered. _The least test was a test of mercy..._

_Now you know the attributes of a king. Physical will, mental will, knowledge and mercy, all of which the tests were based around you. More trials will come, but this is the end of the beginning of many._

The fabric ripped apart, and Eragon found his sword in his hand, still raised to Arya's neck. He withdrew and sheathed his sword, offering a hand. "I doubt you should stay on the ground any longer.

I had always suspected dirtiness was not supposed to be found in a queen."

"What is the meaning of this?" Islanzadí cried, but not to the extent of a full blasphemous exercise.

"Queen Islanzadí, your mate, Evandar; and I use mate since you speak to each other as like animals, spared you, as a true king will not kill his or her love out of cold blood, or even by law. One who has no love for the one he care about... has no love for the world itself."

Islanzadí dipped her head. "You have passed, Eragon-finiarel. You have shown true worthiness of kingship, and even though I thought otherwise, I abdicate."

"Your majesty!" Vanír cried from the sidelines.

"Vanír, your duty is now to protect Arya Drottning. I am now secondary, her steward, should she leave."

Vanír looked as if he had seen his worst fears, but he quickly gathered himself, and said, "Your will be done."

Eragon looked at Islanzadí. "And what now?"

The former queen smiled. "And now is the time for the final Rider to come. But first, we need to hail our new king."

* * *

**A/N: Ohh... my God! That took soooooo long. **

**Arya: Okay, I'm guessing the script you wrote is being a bit crappy, huh?**

**Me: Of course. This was my part time work during what is supposed to be NaNoWriMo. Then again, I quit, so we do not have to worry.**

**Thorn: _We may as well have you write an Eragon Fanfiction for next year's NaNoWriMo._**

**Me: No thanks. NaNoWriMo basically crippled me, so to my readers, sorry this confused me so much. I still have Halo Fanfictions in my head. Ugh...**

**Arya: You were fine before we read this. What happened now?**

**Me: My activity level dropped. I am just flat lining now.**

**Arya: So I guess you readers can Read and Review. Oh, and I didn't know until now, Happy Thanksgiving!**

**Me: Yeah. Go stuff yourselves silly with that turkey meat. Next chapter's gonna hit you somewhere in the start of December if I work hard. Hey, it's Thanksgiving Break for me!**

**Everyone but Eragon: Read and Review!**


	13. Crowning of the King

**A/N: Sorry for the slow updates. There's excess homework, cravings for playings, and you-get-the-idea stuff.**

**Okay, we are now down to the final chapters of the story. And sadly, I will have to bring back Eragon for the finale, the ending Author's Notes of the final Chapter. But at least that chapter is not here until a few more chapters.**

**Brom: Well, I wasn't really hoping for this story to be over this soon. It's only been seven chapters that I have actually enjoyed acting out-of-character.**

**Me: Err, many people are OOC here. You just don't really know it... I actually made Eragon overpowered in the story.**

**Brom: Sounds like you're turning into a Paolini yourself.**

**Me: No, I'm half as old as he is by now. And why would I want to be the heir to the Inheritance Cycle other than inheriting money?**

**Saphira: _What now? Why are you talking about nonsense now. Do it in the ending Author's Notes._**

**Me: [sighs] Great. I guess I'll have to make yet another plot twist in my story. And as Saphira says, I will have to say it in the EAN.**

* * *

Chapter 12: Crowning of the King

Almost immediately afterward, elves started to raise pillars and cloth ribbons to appropriate crowning. Eragon watched them, bored, tapping Brisingr's sapphire as he did. Arya was elsewhere with her mother, Murtagh away with Brom, Saphira somewhere with Thorn, and no one else to speak to.

He was in his own alone time. Again.

Eragon sighed as he stood up, walking over to the place of the battlefield. Arya's broken sword still lay there, no one bothering to retrieve the demolished weapon. Eragon picked up the hilt and the blade, fit the pieces together and connected them with a spell. But the weapon would still be useless.

"Once a blade has been forged and quenched, you can protect it with an endless array of spells, but the metal remains as weak as ever."

Eragon, finished with the spell, held the blade in his hands, the hilt too small with both of his enlarged hands, struck the ground with it. The pommel and guard separated from the blade, the exact same fissure in the place where the blade was maimed. Eragon felt a wave of exhaustion as the pieces fell apart. It is only good for either an ancient relic or even a paperweight, Eragon decided. He reconnected the pieces, then strode passed the elf carpenters. They stopped working as he passed, and bowed before they proclaimed, "Konüngr."

Eragon nodded his head as he approached his tree. Elves shuffled in and out, carrying supposed belongings into carts, folded and packed neatly. An elf approached Eragon with the elven greetings, introduced herself as Reia, and said, "Eragon-konüngr, your belongings are being moved to the Tialdarí Hall. Is something wrong?"

"Err, no, nothing at all."

The elf nodded as Eragon walked past her. He set Arya's blade amongst the bedding, clothes, and blankets in his supposed cart. Eragon then deserted the cart, leaving once again for the Crags of Tel'naeír.

_What else am I supposed to do?_ Eragon asked himself.

Eragon walked around the main square of Ellésmera, to not attract any attention. It was unlikely for him to be bowed to by the fair folk, the ones he had revered all his life. It was unlikely so. Even after the Agaetí Blödhren, Eragon still considered himself mostly human. He didn't think it was supposed for a human or even a half-breed to become king of the elves.

_So why become king in the first place? It would have been better off just becoming some war hero after this war. Then what? Go back to the farm? Leave all what I had done until then? Rip the king's heart from his chest and be over with it? How am I supposed to do that and still go on?_

Eragon stopped his pace. He was at the trail leading from the Crags and Ellésmera. He turned his head to the ground, scowling at himself.

_Why do I have to continue bearing this upon myself? _Eragon asked himself. He closed his eyes and shook his head. _Why does it have to be me that has to endure such a rise in position? First a farm boy, then a Dragon Rider, then a Dragon Rider King? What next? A position in the gods' courts?_

A drip of water fell on the back of Eragon's head. His eyes opened as the ground started to get darker around him. Eragon slowly raised his head as the rain started to sprinkle down.

Eragon took note of the rain for a second before walking toward Oromis' hut. He looked into the sky, wondering how it had become so stormy. He remembered that when he was a child, it was the gods' tears for the people's sins. But whatever the outcome, the rain was still depressing.

There was no great achievement done for Eragon. So what? He sparred and defeated an elf, he broke into the mind of an elf, his mind was more mindset than elves, and he challenged a duel of mercy... with another elf. Now he was king.

So what?

_All I have done is just bring myself to ruin. There is nothing more to achieve._

_Is this why we must move on to Alalea? _asked the voice of Saphira._ And to the other worlds beyond?_

_I think that is why. We have experienced all there is to experience in this world. Me, for instance, once a farmer, then an adventurer-slash-student, then a prisoner, then a fugitive, then a battlefield general. From there, a cripple, an elf, a student again, then a person wanted for dead, then an ambassador, then a battlefield general again, then... so much more._

Saphira hummed. _That is quite a handful of roles to be played in a couple of years._

_But that is nothing to be happy about achieving. One can meet many goals, but they are all erased after death. _Eragon sat in one of the oaken chairs and rested his cheek on his fist.

_That is why one must overcome humanity and receive a throne in the heavens of your gods. Then they are forever eternal._

_Dragons don't believe in gods, do they?_

_No. Except for the Rainbow Dragon, I doubt there is such deity for a religion for dragons. Besides, there is no sustenance we can receive from them. Everything we have is a locked part of ourselves, which unlock as we mature._

_So that means all that a dragon has to achieve is just grow?_

_To the size of mountains._ Humor emanated from Saphira.

A quick burst of a trumpet interrupted Eragon and Saphira's conversation. _I guess this is time for the coronation,_ Eragon said.

_Yes. You should hurry back to Ellésmera. The elves have already gathered._

_I will be there. _Eragon pushed himself up from the chair. _Just be ready to do whatever needs to be done. _Saphira obliged, their contact broken.

Eragon exited Oromis' hut, the rain steadily falling, although not enough to be actual raining. He hustled through the rain toward Ellésmera, but collided into another elf by mistake. "Excuse me," Eragon apologized.

"No, excuse me, Konüngr. It was my fault. I was actually looking for you. Former Queen Islanzadí is requesting your presence at Tialdarí Hall."

"Thank you."

The elf disappeared with a quick dash back to the capital. Eragon followed the path, but turned to the direction of Tialdarí Hall. Another elf stood by the porch area, and ushered Eragon inside. "We have to get you ready, Eragon-konüngr. Your coronation will be starting in about seven minutes."

"Was there no rehearsal, so I know what to do?" Eragon asked.

"I am sorry, we haven't the time to rehearse. You see, a king must already know what he is to say, sadly."

"I understand."

"Be quick. Time is at hand." The elf brought Eragon into a room, a kind of ceremonial robe, and a thin cape with the insignia of the yawë inscribed on the back. Eragon looked at his own clothes, dirty and dusty, so he changed out of it, wiped the grime off his body with a damp cloth. He then switched to clean elven tunics, then donned the ceremonial robes and cape, all with reluctance.

Just contain yourself, and just do what you have to do. It will be over in just a few minutes.

When Eragon had finished keeping the cape in place, the door was opened by an elf in a blue tunic. "Eragon-konüngr, the ceremony is about to start. Are you ready?"

"Yes." Eragon sighed. He tapped Aren's sapphire, which was on his left-hand index finger. "Please, lead the way." The elf bowed, and walked away. Eragon followed close behind, until it was a straight passage with an opening in front of him.

"You are going the rest of the path with me following you, Eragon-konüngr. You will stand before Islanzadí, and wait for Arya-drottning. You two will kneel at the same time before the elven thrones, and before Former-Queen Islanzadí."

Eragon nodded, then anxiously walked before the elf. He then gathered himself, silently hoped that he would make the right decisions in whatever time. If he was elsewhere, he would pray, but the elves do not have any relationships to divine beings that do not show themselves. Eragon then continued the rest of the corridor.

**A/N: You know, in the next few chapters, you're gonna see more in-story AN's. Then again, it's also turning into a kind of tune-fic, a FF where... there is a tune involved... This one is recommended, as it goes with the music. It is called "Ashitaka and San" composed by... sigh... Joe Hisaishi. It's the third one, since the first and second are AMV's on YouTube. Sadly, this has no screenshots.**

The sound of music entered Eragon's ears. Not like the music when he and Arya were sparring, but it contained content and otherwise other positive attributes. When the light enveloped him, there was the gathering of elves around, a raised platform for the orchestra.

Eragon continued walking, looking over to his left to see Arya. She was dressed in the same dress she wore during the first day of the the festival to select the king. The same light-green wear, although she seemed more royal with a train, also with a yawë on it, trailing behind her.

The two stopped before Islanzadí, after climbing four stairs to a raised platform. The music decreased in volume, as Islanzadí spoke: "It has been far too long since we have been graced with a king to rule over us. It has been far too long to let our offspring, the next generation, to rule us. And it has been far too long that we are free of the communism of one man.

"We now have selected Eragon Shadeslayer as our new king. He is in all ways elven, except for his transformation during the Agaetí Blödhren. But after that, we have treated him in all of our ways, and treated him as one of our equal. It is not allowed for one who has no elven blood in their veins to rule the elves, but after this transformation, he is out of the question.

"And my daughter, whom I have truly loved. She still may be young, but she is a headstrong leader, in being with me for all her life, also wise and charming as I had been in my earlier life."

Eragon's ears burned as he took these comments with silence. He just hoped that the elves would not see if his ears had turned red. He was also thinking that Arya may have blushed.

"Both are outstanding warriors, and will also protect the land of Alagäesia for any darkness. The light is within them, and with that light, they will guide Alagäesia to a better future."

And with that, Murtagh, dressed in a red elven tunic with a white ceremonial vest, appeared from beside Islanzadí, presenting the green egg on a small stand. It gleamed like a normal emerald. Some elves started muttering, Eragon picking up some words including "traitor", "blasphemous", and "unworthy." He felt somewhat bad for Murtagh, since he was a long friend of his, as well as being a half-brother. Eragon bit his lip to reduce the compulsion of exploding.

"Murtagh-finiarel has brought the final egg. Whom will this egg hatch for, we do not know." Islanzadí paused and caught her breath. "However, we shall place the egg here, in the midst of our presence, for it will hatch for one."

"This is not the procedure of the destined ones," Eragon noted to Arya in a quiet voice.

"No it is not. Neither do I know my mother's intentions. Just wait and see."

Eragon ground his teeth as Murtagh shrugged and set the egg between the two thrones behind Islanzadí. Light reflected off of it, and Eragon squinted through the light, but he could not shuffle away from his position.

_You have done well, Eragon-finiarel,_ a voice said.

_What?_

_Your initial deed is done, and with this, our gift has been given. Go on, tell the other nations of the degree of the Dragon Riders, inaugurate them, and have them enter an era of peace... tell them of the Tale of Galbatorix's Rebellion and the Forsworn. Tell them of the Tale of the First Eragon and Bid'Daum. Tell them your story, Eragon-finiarel, of the Tale of the Free Rider. Tell them they can do it too._

_So... all I am to do now..._

_Leave Alagäesia. Go to the land of Alalea, the homeland of the elves, and tell them of their descendants who traveled across the sea to find new land, and tell them of the Tale of the First Eragon and Bid'Daum, and anoint Shur'tugal around, to start their era of peace. Tell them then, of the Tale of Galbatorix of the Rebellion and caution their understanding. Then of you, to show them that they can undo their Galbatorix should they allow history to repeat itself. And to prove yourself... bring one... closest to you._

_Go, Eragon-finiarel. As you are our only hope. And accept our gift._

_Our gift to you..._

The distortion of time and space ended with the words _to you..._ "May Eragon-elda and Arya-Svit Kona come forward." Driven by the prophecy spoken by the Rainbow Dragon, he stepped forward, and knelt at Islanzadí's feet. The near quiet _shing_ of a sword sounded as it slid from its sheath. Eragon felt the steel at his shoulder. "I, Islanzadí of House Dröttning, anoint Eragon Shadeslayer, also known as Eragon Bromsson, with all entirety of a former queen with mercy, wisdom, and strength, to lead the elves into battle and or politics, to rule the land of Alagäesia with the power of every king in the land. All hail, Eragon-konüngr!"

The elves repeated in a joyous voice: "All hail Eragon-konüngr! All hail Eragon-konüngr!"

Islanzadí withdrew, turned and placed something, the crown, on Eragon's head. It felt lightweight, unlike the Galbatorix's crown whence he picked up and destroyed immediately. Islanzadí then left Eragon and probably laid the sword on Arya's shoulder.

"I, Islanzadí of House Dröttning, anoint Arya, another Shadeslayer, and my daughter, to govern the king's rulings, to take stewardship when the king has left the throne, and to rule with all entirety as a queen with mercy, wisdom, and strength, to rule the land of Alagäesia alongside Eragon-konüngr. All hail, Arya-dröttning!"

The elves recited again: "All hail Arya-dröttning! All hail, Arya-dröttning!"

"I present to you, our new king and queen of Alagäesia!" Eragon now stood and faced the crowd, with Arya. Before, if he was a mere farm boy, he may have fled, right then and there. After experiencing the past events of standing before crowds, he stood his ground, looking confident.

Or it could be that his crowning changed him entirely.

He sat upon the throne behind him, in unison with Arya. The crown of elves cheered, basically rejoicing. Eragon could not bear to smile at what was going on, and looked at Arya. She too was smiling and they looked at each other.

"I did not think this was actually real," Eragon said. "A farm boy once, and in the time of two years, a king. Something I had not wished to become."

Arya tried to suppress her laugh. "Brom would be pleased."

"Or he would at least bash my head in." Arya pointed into the crowd. There was Brom, speaking to another elf, and drinking from a goblet of faelnirv or tea.

"Looks like you actually became king," Murtagh said. "Your majesty."

"I relieve you of your addressing of me as 'your majesty,'" Eragon said, slowly sliding a hand in the air.

Murtagh chuckled. "Was the gesture really necessary?"

"Yes!" Arya joined in in their laughter.

Suddenly, the egg started to crack. Eragon whirled around at the sound, seeing a largely sized fissure in it already. "The egg!" he cried loudly. "It's...!"

"Hatching?" Murtagh exclaimed. "Now? But...!"

"We are not yet prepared..." Arya said.

Another crack was produced on the other side of the egg, which puzzled Eragon. The cracks converged, and the egg burst open, a wave enveloping Eragon. It diffused against the crowd, but brought their attention to the pedestal. When Eragon looked, he could not believe his eyes.

There were, in the remains of the green eggs, lay two dragons; one emerald green, and the other a dark indigo.

"The green dragon..." Eragon gasped.

"A twin egg..." Arya whispered. "And I figured it was only in the myths..."

The emerald dragon _graarked_ at Arya, shielding its face from the sun with its wing, _graarking_ again. It shook it's scales, rattling lightly. It then took flight, then rested on Arya's lap.

At the same time, the indigo dragon blinked and took flight the second before the emerald. It landed on Murtagh's shoulder. "Hey there..." Murtagh said, tentatively touching the dragon. Immediately, right when the hand met contact, Murtagh screamed, clutching his right hand. The dragon glided to the ground. Words left Murtagh's mouth as the pain was stanched. "Damn, how could I forget the damned gedwëy ignasia?"

Arya whispered a spell as she touched her dragon. The diffused oval appeared on her hand, the only disturbance was a quick grimace. The gedwëy ignasia etched itself on her right hand. "At least you were here as a test subject."

"And connected to _two_ dragons?"

The crowd was stopped. "Twin... dragons...? And Morzan's son is intertwined to two dragons?"

"Morzan's line is... receiving some... apology..."

"And Arya-dröttning! She's a Shur'tugal!"

The crowd started to cheer for the new arrivals of the new Dragon Riders. Saphira and Thorn plodded over. Right when Thorn spotted the indigo dragon, her towered over Murtagh, and eyed the dragon. _What is the meaning of this runt?_ Thorn growled, a jet of flame erupting from the side of his mouth.

"Twin dragon, Thorn. Not my... fault..."

_This is not going to end well,_ Saphira said, turning her sapphire head away.

_Runt,_ Thorn said,_ you are going to disconnect from my Rider... now. Or experience a world of pain._

"Indlvarn has already been done..." Arya said. "There is no way to reverse it."

Thorn's eyes grew bloodshot. _WHAT? AM I TO BE REPLACED BY A LOWLY RUNT? _

Saphira merely sighed. _Exactly why I actually liked him better before Murtagh asked him the "endless flow of 'do-this.'"_

"No, Thorn... he chose me. I didn't choose him. I have to choose and accept both of you two." Murtagh grasped his head.

"Murtagh?" Arya asked. Eragon rushed to his half-brother's side.

"Damn, it's hard to talk to three different personalities. I have the back-of-my-head talking, Thorn talking, and this little guy talking. I can't believe this four-way conscience thing."

"Of course," Eragon said. "Will I have to sort your head out?" He lifted Aren. "This will barely diminish, so I am thinking it is safe."

"No, I'll have to think this out on my own..." Murtagh trailed off. "Come on, Thorn. Let's just have some alone time, and think this through." Murtagh placed the dragon on his shoulder, then jumped onto Thorn's saddle.

Arya stood up, her dragon sitting in her arms. It looked at her. _They're both male, so I guess you can cut the female names..._ Saphira said.

"I would have chosen Eridor, but it sounds to common. I would think Evandar, but since it's my father's name, it would be expected. The only one I have left is..."

"Fäolin," Eragon said. "You wish to remember him, don't you?"

"I do not have that usual tie with him as I had a few weeks ago. I feel like it is my future to be with you."

Eragon's cheeks burned, but he silently whispered a spell to keep his cheek pigments from changing. "I see."

_How about Eremis?_ Saphira suggested. _It's not like any of the names Brom spoke of, but it still refers to the color of the egg._

"How could I have not thought of it?" Eragon asked. "It sounds so simple."

"Named by a dragon. I like it. Eremis."

_Yes,_ Eremis said, its first word, spoken.

* * *

**A/N: WOW! I finished one of the closing chapters... now I feel so accomplished.**

**Sorry for the massive delay that you have experienced, since I had not gotten the time to access my story. Thank you for waiting, and I hoped you like it.**

**I want to give a thanks to someone, in which will also be repeated in the EAU. I want to thank Writer of the North and her story, "Twin Dragons" as well as the voters for Murtagh's Plot Twist for giving Murtagh to be connected to two dragons (WotN for the Twin Dragon's idea).**

**Writer of the North, if you are reading this, REVIEW! Heh-heh, just kidding. You can if you want, but I feel stimulated for you to review. That also goes for the rest of you readers. *cough cough***

**Eremis: I finally get a name, and get to be out of the egg.**

**Murtagh: It feels good too. But now I have an infant dragon to take care of.**

**Arya: What's the name?**

**Murtagh: Eh-heh-heh, that's a secret. I guess Kai'll have to reveal it in the next chapter. Then he'll wrap it up with the end of Eragon's... you-know-what.**

**Arya: Okay...**

**Brom: I WAS A MINOR CHARACTER IN THE CHAPTER! *sob sob***

**Me: Sorry Brom. You'll have a major role again soon. Just wait. READ and REVIEW!**

**HK-47: Threat-Otherwise, Master Kai will not post the final chapter, along with the E-A-U.**

**Me: God, who let Star Wars KotOR in here? HK, command-self-destruct and do not come back until I start a KotOR Fanfiction.**

**HK-47: Command: Accepted. [shoots self in main chassis and explodes into oblivion]**

**Me: Sorry. That was not meant to happen. READ and REVIEW!**

**Arya: What the heck is 'Star Wars?'**


	14. The Public Commission

**A/N: Almost time to destroy those unnecessary in-story (not in-chapter) AN's taking the actual chapter count. But I'll have to do that before posting the Last Chapter. Well, of course, the EAN will not be deleted, as that will be the chapter after the Last Chapter... also updated in conjunction with it. That is basically what I have to say.**

**Me: Brom, do you think we should just skip the randomness script?**

**Brom: You didn't even print it out.**

**Me: Right. I guess this will have to begin...**

**Murtagh: ...now.**

**Me: Yes. Roll it!**

**Eremis: _Good thing I got to come out of that egg..._**

**Me: Of course. You can speak like a normal human being... sadly only in the AN.**

**Eremis: _Dammit. Roll the storyline, Orhiz._**

**Orhiz: Whatever. *grumble grumble***

* * *

Chapter 13: The Public Commission

The rest of the crowning day went on with celebration... and getting drunk on elven faelnirv. But besides all this, Eragon and Arya decided to recuperate from their near-embarrassing experience. They changed into their formal clothes and watched from a distance. Saphira sat between the two. Eremis sat in Arya's hands. When he squirmed, Arya allowed him to fly into the air.

_Eragon,_ Saphira said, projecting her voice so Arya could hear,_ do you have something to say to Arya?_

"There was something to say?" Arya asked. "What is it?"

Eragon sighed. "Well... it has to do something with..."

"Another elf?"

"No... nothing like that... just that something to do with the two of us."

_And no, Arya, it is certainly not mating._ Eragon's ears burned at the comment.

"Something about a mission that you need me to take along with, right?"

Eragon looked at her, astonished. "You know?"

"I was right?"

"Well... yes... you see, I have been receiving... conferences with the Rainbow Dragon. He's been telling me that I have to spread the prosperous age around the world."

"Thus leaving Alagäesia... forever..."

"Yes. I have not told you I had received a fortune during Teirm, have I?"

"You've hinted about it before storming Galbatorix's castle, but I have not put much depth in them. Tea leaves, divining cards, and crystal balls don't make true fortunes."

"And if the fortuneteller had used rune-inscribed knuckle-bones of a dragon?"

"There is no way one could have gotten them."

"Angela has," Eragon admitted, wondering what would happen if Arya were to meet Angela at that moment. He also wondered if he went to far.

"Then... it's a true fortune... Tell me, what was this... mission that you have to tell me?"

"The Rainbow Dragon has commissioned me to go, no later than the end of this year, or so, to the lands of Alalea, the elves' place of origin, and spread the ideas of the Dragon Riders, become their teacher, and spread it to lands beyond the Brodding Sea, as well as, probably, the Corrosives too. I don't know how I will manage that before someone would want to kill me."

_It is something that Rider and Dragon alike will accomplish,_ Saphira stated.

"I will come with you, Eragon," Arya said. "It is my duty, as your partner to accompany you to wherever you must go. I have had my own share of being an ambassador."

Eragon felt relieved and happy at the same time. "Thank you."

"I trust you with my life. If I had not, I would never step outside Alagäesia."

_Something is gathering in between... _Saphira looked away. She grimaced for a quick second, but Eragon noticed.

"What is wrong?"

_Thorn and Murtagh are not back yet. It has been at least fifteen minutes by now._

"Now that you say that, I does seem like that. Could they have been blown off course by the turbulent winds?"

_No. Thorn is far too physically enhanced to be blown away by a medium speed wind. There has to be something out there, if not something._

"Let's go. He could be in danger as we speak," Eragon said. "Arya. Please stay here, should someone ask where I have went. I am going to look for Murtagh."

"But..." Arya said.

"Please. Eka weohnata fnïao. I will return."

"Promised?"

"Promised. Hey, I've survived countless ambushes, fights with ethereal beings and monstrosities, and even Galbatorix. What is larger than a Galbatorix?"

"A bigger Galbatorix."

"Exactly."

_Is that a good thing or a bad thing?_

"Could be both."

Eragon jumped into Saphira's saddle and took off, leaving Arya with Eremis.

_Do you see them?_ Eragon asked desperately.

_No, _Saphira replied._ Can we try Skulblaka svénn? We could have you see through the clouds as I do. We could be two pairs of eyes looking with perfect one-eighty vision._

_Do it._

Eragon went through the transition yet again, this time more comfortable because of the use near Helgrind. The sky got brighter, but at least the sight was sufficient enough to see through the clouds. No sight of Thorn, Murtagh, or the indigo dragon. Still...

_Isn't the color indigo a shade of blue?_ Eragon asked.

_It would be hard to see against a light blue background. But I think it would appear as maybe a violet color. Hopefully._

_Let's hope that hope will hopefully be true._

_Now I doubt I understood what you just said._

_Sorry. I like to do that now._

Nothing was seen for a straight five minutes, save the sea of clouds above them and birds passing below. Eragon started to grow worried for Murtagh. He had not felt this feeling before, but it was almost like a compulsion to conserve Murtagh's life.

_Murtagh,_ Eragon asked himself._ Where in Alagäesia are you...?_ He stretched out his mind, almost like meditating on the stump in the Crags of Tel'naeír. He felt nothing for a second, which was every five feet. Two seconds, a few birds in the sky. Five seconds, some high-flying insects... ten, some large animals and a couple of elves.

In fifteen seconds, he felt a vast presence. It must have been Thorn, for he was larger than either Murtagh or the indigo dragon. He traced the mind to the south east. Now take five feet and multiply it by fifteen...

_Seventy-five feet to thirty degrees north from the southeast direction,_ Eragon announced to Saphira,_ I feel Thorn. Or I think I do._

_I just hope it is not a bigger Galbatorix, _Saphira pleaded as she veered into the direction.

Down near the forest, Eragon saw a dark purple amongst the faded green. _I see Indigo. Take us down to the patch of trees there._

_Acknowledged? _Saphira descended down to the area. She took two mighty flaps before she collided into the ground, giving steady descent. Eragon jumped off, and exploded into the brush area. There, he found Murtagh tending a fire and heating strips of meat. Thorn watched him sleepily, his head resting on both his paws. The indigo dragon was perched on Murtagh's shoulder as the Rider cooked the meat.

"Oh, Eragon," Murtagh said. "What's up?"

"The trees, dumb-ass," Eragon said. "Saphira got worried about you since you left."

Murtagh sheepishly scratched the back of his head. "Well... sorry. I kinda got hungry while trying to figure out a name for this little guy, but I can't think of a good name."

"Brom can list an entire name list for you if you want. He's over a hundred years old too, you know."

"Right, but I want it to be personal. Besides, it's time that my family tree has gained some respect. I hate living in this shunning of my pedigree. It's embarrassing and I think you should make it illegal."

"Then that would also mean that Az Sweldn rak Anhûin will have to be forgiven of intended murder. I cannot let one innocent dwarf die protecting me."

"The dwarves have their laws and the Surdans have theirs', as well as the elves. Your ruling will not spread to Surda or the Beors."

"True..." Eragon said. "I wonder what Vermûnd would be like if he knew if I became king?"

"He would probably shave his beard," Murtagh said, smiling. "A murder choice becoming king... DAMMIT!" He cried suddenly, making the indigo dragon jump.

"What happened?"

"I burnt my meat..." Murtagh whimpered.

_Shame, Murtagh,_ Thorn said. _That is why you should not be talking while cooking. You become distracted._

"Whatever..."

"Did you happen to come up with a name yet?

Murtagh took the pot from where he was cooking on, and offered a square to the indigo dragon. He snapped it up from Murtagh's hand. "Not yet. Do you happen to have a name in mind?"

"None here... Saphira?"

_Many names actually. And most of them differ from Brom's history of names. Fenris, Sedridor, Artames, Crangr, and many more that I do not wish to say. To finish the list means for us to be here until winter or so. Of all I know now, I like Dïsidden the most._

"'Reform' in the Ancient Language..." mused Murtagh. "Fitting. How about it... Dïsidden?"

_I like._ Dïsidden hummed.

"Of course," Murtagh said with a grin. "Naming goes a long way."

"Dïsidden and Eremis," Eragon said. "Has a nice ring to it."

"Arya named her dragon Eremis?"

"Yeah, 'elder' in the Ancient Language, apparently."

"Thought the suffix '-elda' was elder."

"No. 'Elda' is a title for someone of high praise."

"Gods above!" I've been praising Galbatorix all this time? That deviled tongue-twisting bag of meat!"

"He told you '-elda' meant elder?" Eragon asked, surprised at Murtagh's curse.

"Yes, that satanic fool." Another string of curses went under Murtagh's breath.

_Murtagh,_ Thorn said. _If you keep up the cursing, that's the only vocabulary you will ever use. I suggest you don't walk down that path._

"Sorry, Thorn. I'll remember that."

_It's your neck._

"Look," Eragon said. "We should head back to Ellésmera now. Are you sure you're okay?"

"Other than being hungry, I'm fine. Maybe I'll just eat there... but no meat..."

"Yes, sadly. You'll have to eat outside the vicinity if Ellésmera."

"Then let's go. At least Dïsidden is full..." The indigo dragon flew onto Murtagh's shoulder, whom jumped into Thorn's saddle. Eragon did the same, and the two prepared to take off. "Rïsa adurna," Murtagh said. A bulb of water rose from the ground at the command. "Ganga eom brisingr." The fire extinguished, the dragons sailed into the sky, toward Ellésmera, six minutes away.

The party-goers had left the center of Ellésmera, leaving few elves in the vicinity. Arya was gone too, which somewhat bothered Eragon.

"Probably to feed her dragon," Murtagh said, dismounting. Dïsidden glided to Murtagh's shoulder, following its Rider thus.

_It bother me to no end that I was not able to perch on Murtagh's shoulder,_ Thorn scowled. _It makes me resent the day I hatched, all because of that two-faced oath-breaker. I was to be bred for combat?_

_There is another reason why you hatched,_ Saphira commented._ You saw there was some kind of hope in Murtagh, and that he was to swear in the Ancient Language that should he change into his true name, he would have to serve Galbatorix. But that..._ Saphira watched Murtagh walk away. _Would be irrelevant for he has a dragon to take care of. Sort of like a father-ship._

Arya came around the corner, and approached Eragon. "Is something wrong?" he asked.

Arya shook her head. "No. But the elves are departing Ellésmera for Urû'baen as we speak."

"Why Urû'baen?"

"Actually Ileria again." Arya sighed. "You're going to experience receiving kingship again."

"What a life is to be royalty these days..." Eragon sarcastically. "To be crowned twice..."

"And Murtagh... to be declared 'blasphemy' again by the people."

"And only Roran, Katrina, and their daughter know of his existence. The Varden never saw Murtagh again. I doubt they would let him stay alive when he burned and or killed off so many Varden."

"They might understand." Arya didn't sound so sure of herself.

* * *

Eragon spent the night in Tialdarí Hall, because it seemed appropriate for a king to live in the Hall, not in a simple tree. Eragon was seated on his bed when an elf came in with a tray of food. The dinner consisted of a mixture of leaves, berries, and seed cakes. The elf bowed before leaving the room. Saphira snaked her head next to the window.

_How do you feel about going public? _She asked.

_Not very good,_ Eragon said. _But it isn't concerning me, but Murtagh._

_How?_

_He's the son of Morzan, for one. He will be mocked and shunned for that. Second, he was the acquaintance of Galbatorix; having him be either scourged, imprisoned, or both. I worry for his fate._

_We will find a way for him to be trusted. Do not worry, little one._

_I really hope for that._ Eragon started to eat his food, tossing Saphira a seed cake.

When Eragon finished, he set the tray on the drawer near the door. _There is more than just this kingship business,_ Eragon said. _It proves that I may be trusted by foreigners. And then again, it makes me more important to follow that I am the Rider that brings back the dragons..._

_It is for the sake of the world that we must do this, _Saphira said solemnly. _At the cost of the world you knew, you escaped Galbatorix. At the cost the world you know now, you can drive the world to prosperity._

_For the sake of home... Why is that loss so hard?_

_I do not know the answer. But we might discover later in life. It is late. We leave early in the morning. Good night, little one._

_Good night Saphira. _Eragon wrapped the covers around himself and willed for sleep. He heard the door open once, a light slip of metal against wood, and shut once again. The light in the room dimmed a bit, and the room got slightly warmer.

_The day was bright, with a tinge of mist in the background. People were standing near the water's edge, happily chatting and playing about._

_A large shadow swept over the lake area, causing people to look up. A large beast of some sort glided down, a spike driving from its body, impaling a villager. The one beside the victim screamed in terror, sending the hillside into immediate pandemonium. Archers stationed themselves at the edge of the forest, volleying arrows into the behemoth. The arrows seemed to have no effect, and the beast was slowly, but surely, heading toward the village._

Re..._ it said,_ ...venge... re... venge..._ Each of its eyes stared directly at the gathering of buildings. A ball of energy formed at the base of its lips, the temperature rising with each second. A stream of intense flame projected toward the village._

"_Skölir nosu fra brisingr!"_

_The jet of flame quickly veered upward, curving toward its source. The flame hit the creature dead on, but it didn't stop its rampaging course to the village. A figure upon a dragon as blue as the depths of the ocean now floated above the targeted village. A gleam of blue light shined as the sun grew dimmer, while the area around the creature grew lighter._

"_May your vengeance be sated, Helragh," the figure said. "Rest in peace in forever light; Thrysta garjzla solus!"_

_The creature looked upward, the sunlight blinding its eyes. It felt its strength fade with each passing second. It could not find the energy to lift a wing or arm to block the light._

Escape..._ it whispered. _Must... es... cape..._ But to no avail, the sun condensed into a beam, its weakness was becoming too powerful. Its skin blistered, burning a hole through the tough membrane. It gave a loud shriek before crashing to the ground with a column of dust and dirt from the impact._

Eragon jolted upright. The ground was vibrating. He must have felt it from his dream.

_Not a dream,_ he told himself. _All of these are... visions..._ He felt his strength go away, to return with a sudden surge. The light from outside grew a little dimmer, as if he was the one wielding the power of the sun.

_Eragon,_ said Saphira from the window._ I do not know why you were wondering if you can play around with the sun's light, but it took away most of your energy._

_I... don't know what happened. Does magic happen in my sleep?_

_What? Is that even possible?_

_I'll... ask Brom. He should... know._ Eragon staggered out of bed, pulled on his boots and tried to walk, but his legs would not support him. _I'll never get outside with this. _He used the furniture as a railing and took the Belt of Beloth the Wise to replenish himself.

The task depleted four of the twelve diamonds. Grimacing at how much energy it took to reflect sunlight into one area, he strapped the belt on. Next went Brisingr to his waist and Aren onto his finger.

He exited through the door, accompanied by Arya with Eremis on her shoulder. "Sleep well?" Arya asked.

"Another vision or so," Eragon replied. "I'm guessing it will be the creatures we will face in Alalea or some other land." He then described the creature from his dream.

"Sounds like a more ancient kind of Ra'zac or Lethrblaka," Arya concluded. "Whatever it is, it shows much resent toward humanity and the elves in the land."

"It declared revenge for something. Will we be able to cleanse that? With a beam of sunlight?"

"The answer is beyond me. But all it know is that it could be more dangerous than a horde of Ra'zac by its lonesome. The ability for it to breathe fire frightens me. But for now, let us make the journey to Ileria."

Eragon nodded. He went to Saphira, adjusted her saddle, and hopped on. Eragon nuzzled the dragon near the chin, like he would a dog. Eremis closed his eyes, humming. When Eragon pulled back his hand, Eremis flapped once and glided onto Eragon's shoulder. Eragon then climbed onto Saphira, helping Arya up. Saphira then roared once and soared into the air.

Once they were outside Ellésmera, Eragon saw the scores of elves migrating to Ileria, noticing how important a crowning was. Some elves were on horseback, some running as leopards or other four-legged animals, while some merely traveled on foot. One looked up and seemed to wave.

"Has Murtagh left yet?" Eragon asked.

"He actually left with my mother," Arya replied. "Something to accommodate the crowns or the thrones or something. I don't really know." Eragon nodded his head at the reply.

It was about fifteen minutes into the flight when the castle spires came into sight. "We're finally here," Eragon said. "And the duty will be done."

"It shall be done."

_To witness and spread the world of the Dragon Riders to the other worlds. Governed by peace._

Saphira took a surge of speed, the turbulence crashing the Eragon's face. He could barely keep his head in place, but he remained still.

The migration of people became denser now, sticking to the road as normal travelers or in caravans. He also spotted the lines of white horses, which Eragon concluded was Islanzadí's party. In the distance, Eragon could see more flocks, almost like a sea that was the drainage basin for several major rivers.

_I am to be proclaimed by this many people?_ Eragon thought.

It took Saphira seven minutes to reach Ileria, the renamed Urû'baen. The elves had already reconstructed the crowning site, moved a throne in front of the gates, and put up all the decorations.

Saphira landed in a clear area not too far from the stage. The elves greeted the Riders and the dragons. "Arya Dröttning, may we ask what the name of your dragon is?"

"It is Eremis. You may return to what you were doing before." The elves nodded their heads before going back to setting up decorations.

Murtagh and Islanzadí arrived the minute after. Dïsidden was still perched on Murtagh's shoulder. "Where's Thorn?" Eragon asked.

"Coming," Murtagh replied, pointing a finger into the horizon. "Why?"

"Just wondering."

Islanzadí and her horse trotted up to Eragon. "Prepare for the public inauguration," she said, "even though it will take at least an hour for the people to arrive. Is this clear?"

"Yes, we understand."

Islanzadí nodded as she galloped away to an entrance of the city. "How do we prepare in the first place?" Eragon asked. "We barely even say anything, much less than a few words."

Murtagh shook his head. "Islanzadí gets more agitated now. For some reason, things have to be perfect one again." Murtagh crossed his arms. "From what I am thinking, it's to get into ceremonial clothing. See you all." And with that, he started walking toward the citadel.

"Guess we should change back into formality," Eragon then said, "don't you agree?"

"If you insist." Eragon and Arya started for the citadel, leaving Saphira alone. Just at about that time, Thorn swooped down and landed beside Saphira. They started talking about something, but Eragon paid no close attention.

* * *

Eragon looked over his clothes and the cape with the yawë symbol on it. Everything seemed in check. The Belt of Beloth the Wise hidden under the garments, Brisingr at his hip, Aren on his finger, his hair free of tangle, his face clean of dirt...

"Milord, the people are assembled," an elf said at the door.

"I'll be right there." Eragon checked his reflection one last time before opening the door and following the elf outside.

"It will be just like the crowning at Ellésmera, right?"

"Fairly similar, I would presume. Except this corridor is much shorter."

Eragon nodded his head slowly as a way of understanding. He went out and went to the outside of the corridor. The same tune from the crowning at Ellésmera played. Eragon walked out, surprised at the multitudes that were attending.

He walked on a red carpet path between rows of the onlookers, most of them were soldiers that blocked the villagers and civilians from going any closer to the path. At one point, Eragon spotted Horst and his sons among the crowd, Horst's face contorted with awe and disbelief.

Eragon walked up the stairs onto the stage, immediately followed by Arya on the opposite side. They both bowed before the thrones, just as they had done during Ellésmera.

Islanzadí and Murtagh appeared from behind the thrones, the crowns resting on the pillow that were suspended in Murtagh's hands. Whispers echoed among the people, obviously alarmed by Murtagh's arrival. Eragon glanced at Murtagh for a quick second; his face contorted with hidden disgust. Eragon pursed his lips, hoping that Murtagh would not explode and unleash his full fury upon the ignorant and the haters.

"Greetings, one and all!" Islanzadí spoke in a loud voice, lifting both her arms. "We gather here, in the shadow of Ileria's citadel, more better known Urû'baen. We now hail the abdication of my reign to the newer generations. I give to you, Eragon Bromsson and Arya of House Dröttning!"

The crowd at first went frozen with disbelief, until a handful of people started cheering to raise the joyfulness among the people. Eragon was then frightened that people had not expected, well; no one would have, for Eragon to be king, much less for Islanzadí to step down for another elf to take her place.

"It has been too long since a rightful ruler has been chosen for our land. For nearly a century, we have been ruled by Galbatorix's cruel and dark hand. He ravaged the once proud Shur'tugal, the Dragon Riders, desecrated their most sacred havens, and even made war with the dwarven nations. This dark being scarred the land of Alagäesia, in which our new rulers will heal and restore Alagäesia to the time of the Riders.

"In addition, the last green egg has hatched" -the crowd cheered with exceeding joy- "for also our newest queen, Arya. Although many of you have despised the Riders, for Galbatorix was also a Rider in his time, but having one whom have lived in the destruction and the persecution, our king will see to that his decisive thinking will send our land into prosperity."

"Hail, to our newest King and Queen of all Alagäesia! Hail, Eragon-konüngr! Hail, Arya-dröttning!"

Hail, Eragon-konüngr! Hail, Arya-dröttning!" Some of the people struggled with the grasp of the Ancient Language, but nonetheless got it said. Murtagh walked forward with the crowns, in which Islanzadí set them on Eragon's and Arya's head.

During this time, the clouds swirled around the sun, creating almost like a spiral of clouds around the light source. Everyone looked up, including Eragon and Arya. In the sidelines, Saphira and Thorn dipped their heads at the sight. The people gasped as a dragon of many colors surged forward from the clouds.

The Rainbow Dragon floated among the people, inspecting each face. One villager that lay in its gaze fell on the spot, where his wife tried to wake him from his faint. The dragon's eye squinted for a quick second then declared with a mighty roar:

_It has been too long! Ever since, I have watched the land of Alagäesia turn over and over by the deeds of the dark fiend. I have waited until the time in which to govern the world of the dragons and their Riders would come to destroy this desecration._

_Eragon Bromsson is my servant, in which he has done what I foresaw. He has done all what I have declared, along in which he will be sent, the solstice of this coming winter to the other worlds to govern the other-landers will learn of our future._

The people murmured amongst themselves, trying to understand what the dragon had said. They had elected a king and queen, then the king and queen would leave in a matter of months.

_Eragon,_ the dragon said. _You will leave no later than the winter solstice, right when the first snowflake falls. Then, you will leave, selecting a king in your stead until you return. Things will go according to as said, and the world shall know of this success and this prosperity._

Eragon nodded his head, "I understand, great dragon."

The dragon raised its head, roared once as it fled back into the heavens. _I will watch over you, Eragon, last descendant of the... _the voice faded into the heavens. Murtagh watched the dragon leave, and asked, "What... in the hell... just happened?"

"Our mission just went public," Eragon said in a low voice. "It is now expected of the people." If Murtagh would have heard it, the people would have too.

"We are expected to leave," Arya said in the same low volume. "When the first snowflake falls."

Islanzadí outstretched her arms. "Our new king and queen will send us into prosperity by our winter solstice. If it cannot be done, then the selected stewards will rule when they leave, by decree of the most sacred missions in the world.

"To tell the other lands of the Riders, presenting them the eggs of which Saphira will carry. And the cautions of what Galbatorix could have prevented. And of the adventures of which Eragon had underwent to topple the dark king from his throne."

The crowd burst out cheering, throwing whatever they could find on the ground: hats, vests, pieces of paper, a few waterskins, and in the corner went a sword. The commoners started for the throne, in which the soldiers squeezed them into a line, allowing a few people at a time.

First was Jeod and Helen, whom had obviously chosen their best assortment of formal clothing for the coronation. Jeod grinned and shook his finger at Eragon. "Right when you came into my house with Brom, I immediately thought you were something special as he told me about you being a Rider. Then you brought the Varden into safety by killing Durza; and sadly Ajihad had to die in the process. Now you killed the king and became his position himself!"

"I actually never looked forward to be king," Eragon said. "I just took what the Rainbow Dragon had said to fulfill what had to be done."

"Still, you are king. Does that change? No!" Jeod laughed as he patted Eragon on the shoulder, alarming the soldiers. Eragon had to tell them that they were friends and they meant no harm.

"So, Helen," Eragon said, "were you able to produce 'an empire that would overwhelm your father's?'"

"I am almost there, thanks to you." Helen smiled as she and Jeod left the stage.

More people came up, at first telling their surprise that the farm boy had become a Rider, killed a Shade, defeated the Ra'zac, defeated an enemy Rider, and killed the dark king in his own throne room. Some quickly joked about the series of events before leaving the stage, joining the others in partying.

The last people to meet were Roran, Katrina, and Evrinya. "When did I ever wonder when you'd be king?" Roran asked.

"I don't recall. If you did, I have forgotten."

"Of course. Killing Galbatorix gave you some amnesia, has it?"

"Then how come I still know how to speak fluently in the Ancient Language?" Eragon tilted his head at his cousin.

"Haha, very funny." Roran left the stage. Katrina passed mouthing "see you later."

Eragon collapsed into the throne, almost thankful it was there. "Great," Eragon said. "Another coronation... when's the next one?"

"It's a good thing you don't have another one," a soldier said.

"Really?"

"Yes, your majesty!" the other soldiers replied.

* * *

**A/N: Finished Chapter 13. I think it is now the longest chapter I have posted over Chapter 2. By at least a thousand-something words or so. One more Chapter... then it'll be done.**

**Arya: Are you going to put up a FAQ from fans?**

**Me: Maybe. I'll consider it... yes.**

**Brom: I was completely out of the picture.**

**Me: Sorry, that tends to happen when I go one vacation without being able to fully concentrate on my story. I sometimes accept you are dead... when you're alive in my story.**

**Brom: [scowls]**

**Murtagh: Hidden disgust? [looks up from script] I don't even think that is possible.**

**Me: Of course. I am the author. I can make whatever I can do.**

**Murtagh: I don't even get how Eragon can see my "hidden disgust."**

**Me: He can now.**

**Saphira: _I find it impossible for Eragon to even see hidden things. But now that he is now; publicly speaking; king, I guess he can for the time being._**

**Me: [bored] Kings can do that.**

**Saphira: _I see._**

**Me: [to readers] The Final Chapter and the EAN shall be posted by Christmas. Consider it a gift for reading my story... and for feedback to those that have reviewed. Thank you.**


	15. Final Chapter: Forever We Will Leave

**Read and Review!**

**A/N: And now's the time you've all been waiting for... the Final Chapter. And what's more is that today is Christmas, which seems to be a wonderful place to stop and see how _Successor to the Throne_ ends. I will leave all OOC'ness into the EAN, for all enjoyment (or not). Reading starts now... I guess.**

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Final Chapter: Forever We Will Leave

Three months have passed since the last appearance of the Rainbow Dragon at Ileria. Three months have passed ever since Eragon and Arya have struggled to rebuild Alagäesia successfully. Three months have passed since Helgrind has been converted into a prehistoric museum.

It was the twilight hour. Right now, Eragon looked out the window of the tallest tower of Ileria. Below, people bustled about, tending to merchandise and little children. _Three months,_ Eragon thought. _It is now the day before the winter solstice. Tomorrow's the day that Arya and I will leave Alagäesia. Tomorrow is the day that I set out for Alalea._

The thoughts never left Eragon's mind. It was always on the top of his mind, that a servant would come into Eragon's sleeping chambers on some occasions, asking if everything was alright. Eragon would then ask the servant what he was saying, whom revealed that Eragon was saying his final goodbyes to Murtagh.

Eragon shook his head. _The winter solstice in tomorrow. The day I will leave Alagäesia... forever..._

_Of course. Me leaving Alagäesia forever is on this journey to complete world peace and prosperity. But will it ever come? Will I finish this job?_

Eragon shook his head to relieve himself of the thoughts. He walked to a desk, pulled a seed cake from a dish and popped it in his mouth. Eragon then left the room, the door closing behind him.

As Eragon walked down the halls, some subjects bowed saying "your majesty" as Eragon walked past them. He went to the dragonhold, one of the many elven features of the citadel, and walked up to Saphira.

_Yes, little one?_ Saphira asked with one eye open, woken from her nap.

_Are you ready to leave Alagäesia?_

_You know the answer as much as I do. Although the final parting hurts, we can still go on; can we?_

Eragon put a hand on Saphira's side. _I think we can. If it means that we are together, we can do it._

_We can overcome. At the cost of our home. It burns._

_Leaving home causes that pain..._ Eragon felt tears welling into his eyes, but he willed them not to come out.

"It is okay to cry for someone or something dear," someone behind Eragon said, "I too weep for my home."

Eragon turned to see Arya, Eremis at her side. Three months ago, the green dragon was no longer than Arya's forearm, but now he was at about her shoulder.

_I was able to see much more by flying,_ Eremis said._ It helps me get used to Alagäesia_. _But to leave also gives me pain. You two are not alone with future homesickness._

_Of course,_ Saphira replied. _What else would you feel if you find the world you hatch in and to leave in a matter of months? _Eremis did not answer the question.

"Dinner will be ready in a few minutes," Arya said.

"Final meal in Alagäesia," Eragon said. "I doubt this will last very long..."

"It won't probably." Eragon left Saphira's side and followed Arya out the door. "Your portions will arrive in the meantime too," Arya said to the dragons.

_Enjoy what you still can,_ Thorn said from the corner. _It will be your last._

"Thanks."

Eragon and Arya walked side by side down the hall to the dining hall. "How will this end?" Eragon asked. "We are to leave like this, right?"

"We are..." Arya said. "Today we ready our leave. Tomorrow we leave."

"It all seems too simple. It ends so suddenly." Eragon turned to a window beside him. The sun was setting behind the horizon. "After today, we will be surrounded by the expanse of water of the Brodding Sea, between Alagäesia and Alalea."

"Going in one direction and not the next," Arya agreed. "Leaving behind the homeland. But there is one thing I get to know."

"That is?"

"Observing my place of origin and how my people originally came to be."

"At least we have one thing to figure out as we are there. But what of Alagäesia? I just wonder how it will do without us. I wonder what changes will come up as we are gone."

"It will do fine, I hope. Dinner awaits. We can go over this at morn." Arya rested her head on Eragon's shoulder.

"Let's go."

* * *

"_Eragon..."_

"_Who is there?" Eragon asked._

"_Your master. Is it not obvious?" The voice sounded familiar._

"_The Rainbow Dragon?"_

"_Sometimes. And more."_

_Eragon found himself standing in his farm clothes, standing in a black space, himself illuminated by an unknown light source. At his side was Brisingr, his finger wore Aren, but he could not sense the presence of the power stored inside any of the gems though. So Eragon merely drew his sword, whether the one talking to him, Rainbow Dragon or not, would attack him._

"_Why the sudden mistrust, Eragon-konüngr?" The voice asked, minor mockery in its voice. "You leave Alagäesia in a matter of hours, if not minutes. Will you not allow me to speak?"_

"_What do you want with me? Arya and I have already decided to go, no matter the outcome of leaving the home we know most about."_

"_Of course, of course." A figure appeared in front of Eragon, whom expected it to manifest into several different colors in the shape of a dragon, but that was not the case._

_This one was in the form of a human, a few inches taller than Eragon. His face was obscured by the darkness, as if the dark willed to keep the person's face secret. The person wore a darkish red ceremonial tunic over a white sleeved shirt, a sarong of the same color; white pants underneath, with wrist-hand covers, decorated with red and gold. His feet wore boots decorated with colors as those of his bracers. At his chest was adorned a red ruby amulet, it thrumming with power. A sword was strapped at his side, the pommel bearing an onyx gem._

_The figure outstretched his right hand. "Eragon. The final parting will hurt, you know that from your dragon, Saphira Bjartskular. But this mission I have set before you will help more than pain. Know this, and your path will be true._

"_Remember that you are a king of a land. That will never change. But your status involving being a Rider will change. Your father has lost his title for the time being, therefore he is not considered a Rider. Osthato Chetowä is dead, and it still bears pain on you."_

_The remembrance of Oromis brought Eragon to draw Brisingr and deal with the figure._

"_You wish to fight me?" the figure asked, almost knowing what Eragon was thinking. "You have no hope, although I wish not to harm you in jeopardy of ruining future world peace."_

"_Who are you, anyway, that you know of everything I have been though?" Eragon demanded._

"_I am here to help, guide, and protect. I am the deity you know as 'the Rainbow Dragon'. He is but a figment of my entirety. You will realize when the time comes that you leave."_

_Realization enveloped Eragon. This one person must be a god of sorts, with omniscience and omnipotence. "I have a question," Eragon proposed._

"_Speak."_

"_You say something of a descendant before you leave. I can never grasp what you are trying to say, because your voice floats into nonexistence before you finish."_

_The figure rested his left hand on the pommel of his sword. "I will reveal all that you need to know when you leave. This is not the time._

"_Now return, Eragon-konüngr. You will meet me in person shortly. Good night..."_

_The darkness started to crack, as if Eragon was in a box of some sort. A fissure slashed through the figure, as if he were a stained glass window in a church under siege. Eragon himself felt as if he were falling. The cracks converged into each other, and Eragon's vision only showed shattered pieces._

* * *

Eragon's eyes flew open as he saw only the brick ceiling above him, seen through the translucent bed covering. He blinked as he pushed himself upright.

_What... was that?_ He asked himself. _No matter... what he said..._

_You will meet me in person shortly._ The voice sounded vaguely real.

_Better get ready._ Eragon put on his royal wear, consisting of his tunic and bottom robe. He put Brisingr at his side, the sapphire almost exploding with energy. Aren was likewise charged, making its former capacity seem like a bean to a mountain.

_Strange..._ Eragon thought as he exited the room.

The dragonhold was Eragon's next destination, where Saphira was saddled and ready for takeoff. _Ready, little one?_ She asked.

_Ready,_ Eragon said as he heaved himself onto the saddle. _Let's go._

Saphira nodded as she soared into the air towards west. The houses passed underneath Rider and dragon with each passing second. _Where are Murtagh and Islanzadí?_ Eragon asked.

_They left early, _Saphira replied. _Arya too. She followed the others, telling me to wait until you wake up. She gave me directions of where the leaders are going to gather during our leave._

_At least she is safe._

_She is a queen. She is well protected by another Rider, as much as her own skill._

Eragon looked up, the wind buffeting his face. The sun peeked from behind the Spine, giving light to the earth once again.

_The last sunrise I will see in Alagäesia,_ Eragon told Saphira.

_The next sunrise we will see will be in new territory,_ Saphira said.

_Saddening that this sight will change. Will Alalea be the same as Alagäesia?_

_Unlikely that they are the same. But land will be land, and that is where both our species live._

Eragon nodded and returned to sightseeing. To the right, the city of Bullridge sailed past, while a tendril of the Ramr River flowed at Eragon's left. Ileria was shrinking with each second as the Spine grew at the same speed.

The sun was fully in the sky by the time Saphira reached the shadow of Utgard Mountain. Saphira circled around the mountain, flying over the Spine. _Not much farther,_ Saphira said. The mountains passed behind in a minute, the sea visible on the other side. There were people around a little fire by the beach, a large red rock-looking object, as visible from the sky. Eragon assumed it was Thorn.

_They have all gathered. Let's go._ Saphira dove downward, picking up speed as so. It lasted a second before she broke the descent with two powerful flaps of her wings. The people looked up from the fire, whom Eragon recognized Nasuada and King Orrin, as well as a few elven flag bearers. "So the Rider finally arrives," Orrin hummed through his beard.

"He's the god-forsaken king of Alagäesia," Murtagh replied. "Well, his half of Alagäesia, that is."

Orrin winced at the comment. "Never thought you'd taste how royalty goes," Orrin added," It's madness if you ask me. Another Rider king? Blasphemous."

"Watch your mouth, Surdan," an elf said in barely fluent speak. "He may be a Rider, but he is no Galbatorix."

"Riders all the same. As for the one sitting across from me, he's the one who killed Hrothgar."

"I most certainly..." Murtagh stated.

_...did not kill... _Thorn continued.

"...kill the dwarven king..."

_...out of free will._

_So shut up,_ Dïsidden finished. Orrin looked shocked.

"Cut the insults, Orrin," Nasuada said. "For one, he _killed _Galbatorix. For two, we'll never see him again."

"At least the lady knows what is going on," another elf said.

Eragon looked amongst the people. None of them were clothed in red, white, and gold. So the one in his dream or vision was not present.

"What is wrong, Eragon?" Arya asked.

"There is supposed to be one more person here..." Eragon replied.

"One?"

"He said to me he will be here..." Eragon turned to Islanzadí. "Milady, how am I and Arya to depart?"

The elf closed her eyes. "I have a ship coming. Two elves are sailing it here as we speak." Just then, a silver ship appeared behind the trees, rapidly approaching. "And just at the right moment."  
The elven flag bearers quickly stood up and formed two lines, standing at attention. The leaders pushed themselves from their seats and stood at the back of the tunnel, almost at the trees. Eragon and Arya stood directly at the beginning point of the tunnel formed by the elves by Murtagh and Islanzadí.

The ship pulled over to the shore, the gangplank area perfectly in line with the tunnel made by the elves. As the gangplank lowered for Eragon and Arya to board, Eragon gasped. Everyone else just stared.

On the entrance to the ship was a man, clothed in red, white, and gold. His face was obscured by his red hood, the edges lined with gold. At his side was the sword with the onyx in it. On instinct, the elves pointed the flags at the stranger, tips gleaming in the sunlight. The man merely waved a hand in the air, and the elves shook as they retained their original position.

_What?_ Eragon asked himself. _A wave of a hand and that happens? He didn't even use the Ancient Language!_

"Eragon-konüngr," the man said. "We meet in person now. Is any surprise coming to you as I somehow got onto your ship to Alalea?"

"You know this intruder, Eragon?" Murtagh asked, Zar'roc in his hand.

"Murtagh," the man said again. He snapped his fingers. "Please put that toy away, it's so undignified at this moment." Murtagh's face contorted as his hand acted on its own and Zar'roc was put in its sheath.

"What is this madness?" Murtagh shouted. "Kvekya!" Murtagh raised his right hand, a jolt of lightning shooting from the newer gedwëy ignasia.

"Deloi, skölir eka." A wave of soil rose as the lightning was absorbed into the earth. "Flauga aptr." Murtagh was then sent flying, but he fell on his knees. "His reaction and movements..."

"Murtagh Morzansson," the man declared, " you realize I am not your enemy, no? You know that my power is unlimited, yet you choose to neglect that. That is a great mistake, sadly. But I am not here to fight.

"Eragon. Your actions have taken you far. To meet me directly is a great feat. Few have gathered my attention, and even fewer actually feel to do what I ask them."

"What do you want?" Eragon asked. "Who exactly are you?"

The man put a hand to his chin. "I will explain so this Surdan may also understand... I am basically the likeness of a god, reincarnate."

"Blasphemy!" Orrin cried.

"Orrin, to blaspheme that which is blasphemous is blasphemy itself. Do refrain from saying what comes to your mouth before your mind." The man sighed. "What is become of the Master's creations...?"

Eragon was shocked enough to only register the thought _What?_.

"Eragon. Now is the time." The man held out a hand, a flake of snow dropping into it. "Now is the time. You must choose a candidate. Upon your leave, there will be no king for Alagäesia. Orrin has Surda to govern, Nasuada the remaining Varden. Choose someone in Alagäesia to succeed an finish the reconstruction."

_Me..._

Eragon turned to face Murtagh and the others. They all had a pleading look on their faces. No one was fit enough for kingship, or he had already tasted kingship. Who could lead one nation to continue reconstruction?

"Eragon," the man said.

Eragon laid his eyes on Murtagh. _He must understand. He knows how corrupt the land was when Galbatorix was in rule._

"Murtagh," Eragon said.

"Eragon?"

"Murtagh, I am leaving this task to you, not as a king or Rider, but as a brother."

"Go on."

"When I am gone, I want you to lead Alagäesia" Orrin gasped. "You know how the land was when Galbatorix came into rule," Eragon continued, "corrupt, weak, unsafe. You know how that land becomes when a rightful ruler is made."

"I can't..."

"Murtagh, promise me this. I would not be here without you. First at Dras-Leona. You saved me there. Then you spared me after Galbatorix captured you. I saved you when I told Saphira to catch you."

"I can't..."

"I want to tell you. You can do it. Help me finish the reconstruction. You wanted redemption for your family tree? Finish what I have begun and people will look up to you. You are...

"My brother and also part king."

Murtagh looked down. "We are half-brothers..." he said, a tickle of laughter in his voice. "But I will do it. For you and my family."

"Then it is settled," the man said. "Murtagh. You will rebuild Alagäesia just as Eragon had. I will also leave a gift for you. Take a saddlebag off Thorn. The middle one."

Puzzled, Murtagh pulled it off. He opened the drawstring and pulled out... a light-blue dragon egg.

"Another... Rider?"

"You are a Rider. You will live forever, given Thorn and Dïsidden. You will find a true love, as Eragon had. That egg you hold now will hatch only for your true love, the one destined for you. And to rebuild the race to Alagäesia, it is a female.

"And another, if you wish. Turn around, and remove your tunic."

Murtagh set the egg down and removed his shirt, and turned for the man to see. The scar from his shoulder to his hip was still there.

"Have you ever understood the meaning of this scar, Murtagh?"

"No. I have always considered it a burden to carry."

"It was the very first shackle your father gave you. It decreed that you were forever his servant. By that, you have been the servant of Galbatorix. The wound you bear cannot be healed, as it will only scar, even by magical means, for it is a mark by magic-impervious weapons.

"It is by this scar that Galbatorix was able to control you. It marked who you are. The same reason goes to why Eragon had the same effects, yet decreased for it wasn't an exact copy. Durza failed in that, for I was able to stop that... barely in any case.

"Do you wish to be forever rid of the burden you've carried for sixteen years?"

Murtagh's face brightened. "My... scar...? I wish to be cleansed, really! But can it be done?"

The man nodded. He stepped toward Murtagh, placing a hand on his skin.

"Heill thornessa zar'roc." Immediately, the skin closed back into itself, the scar covered over. Murtagh twisted himself to inspect his back, finding nothing there.

"It's... gone... It's finally gone..."

"Impossible," Orrin whispered.

"Accepted..." Arya breathed.

"Restart your journey," the man said. "Gather what you have learned from both Tornac and Galbatorix and use them to create a new world.

"Magic is not a tool, it is a partner. It takes and gives. Take too much, and it will abandon you. Heed this warning, Murtagh. You will prevail."

"How can I thank you?" Murtagh asked, pulling on his tunic.

"Rebuild Alagäesia. Reward is hard to come by, but it is great for ones who stumble upon it. Eragon, Arya, it is time to go."

Eragon and Arya started forward, but Arya turned and ran to her mother. She wrapped her arms around her, saying, "Goodbye. Please help Murtagh, will you?"

Islanzadí looked at Arya, then smiled. "Wiol ono, my daughter. Wiol ono..."

Arya then let go of her mother and followed Eragon to the ship. "Let's go Thorn," Murtagh said. "Let's go back to Ileria."

Thorn did not move. _I am going with Saphira,_ he said.

"What?"

_That egg you carry was the egg from the two of us, The first step of rebuilding her race in Alagäesia I, as the mate of the Mother of the Dragon Race, must take responsibility to look after Saphira and sire the eggs to the nations._

Murtagh then turned to disbelief. "What?"

_Rule Alagäesia with Dïsidden I did not want this to happen either, but it has happened._ Eragon and Arya entered the boat, and turned to watch. Nasuada, Orrin, and Islanzadí mounted on their horses and trotted away into the Spine.

The ship started to leave the shore with Eragon, Arya, Eremis, and the mysterious man on board. Saphira took flight and soared into the sky. Thorn turned to Murtagh, and started to choke, as if he were getting something out of his throat.

"What are..." Murtagh started, but Thorn stopped and stretched out his tongue. There lay a red stone-like gem, the Eldundarí, covered in dragon saliva, and pushed it into Murtagh's hands. _Rule Alagäesia and rebuild it. Do it for me. _Thorn then roared and followed Saphira into the air.

"I wanted to do it with you!" Murtagh dropped the Eldunarí on the ground and walked to the edge of the water, fell on his knees and screamed in a loud voice, "COME BACK!"

Eragon remembered this scene from his first dragon dream. He wanted to jump and swim to Murtagh and comfort him, but could not do so.

"I wanted to rebuild Alagäesia with you!" Murtagh wailed. "Not Dïsidden! Come back!"

The ship sailed into the Brodding Sea, leaving Murtagh, Dïsidden, and the red Eldunarí on the beach. In a few minutes, Alagäesia disappeared behind the sea mist. And the snow started to fall on Alagäesia.

Murtagh stared at the graying sky, hands limp beside his knelt feet, and whispered, "Why me...?"


	16. EAU: End Author's Notes

******Even after this has been completed, it can still be improved. Feedback, please!**  


**A/N: Is there any need for this A/N? This whole "chapter" is the EAN, so this A/N is omitted. Enjoy the beginning randomness. 900 words!**

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EAN: End Author's Notes

Kai threw his legs onto his desk, which was riddled with papers, pencils, and USB flash drives. He seemed pretty content with himself for finishing _Successor to the Throne_. Before him sat Eragon, Arya, Eremis, Dïsidden, Murtagh, Brom, and the light-blue egg. "What do you think?" Kai asked.

"The ending was cruel," Murtagh said. "It made me cry."

"It made everyone cry," Brom agreed. "I was completely forgotten."

"Great tying with the first 'dragon dream'," Eragon said. "I liked that part, except when Murtagh was left with Dïsidden..."

_Hey! _Dïsidden cried.

"Okay, sorry," Kai said, almost losing his cool. "Now for the long forgotten disclaimer and Special Thank-You's..." Kai opened a drawer and pulled out two sheets of paper, held together by a staple.

* * *

**Disclaimer:**

This story, Successor to the Throne, is the sole imaginative creation of One-See-Ayser, AKA Kai, from the works of the Inheritance Cycle, authored by Christopher Paolini. This story's elements, including characters and setting, belong to Mr. Paolini himself. However, Outside Characters such as Mysterious Man, Dïsidden, Eremis, Rebirth Brom, and other characters belong to the imaginative section of Kai's brain. This part also includes Ancient Language words that were not originally found in the Ancient Language dictionary on "inheritance-dot-wikia-dot-com" or "shurtugal-dot-com". Any of this story's elements may be used by anyone WITH MY PERMISSION!

* * *

**Special Thanks':**

All Special-Thanks' go to each respective Fanfiction-dot-net User.

1) **Writer of the North**- My first source of help, whom has helped me beta my story, answering questions that help go along with the plot; including Riddles, Name For Greenie, and Brom's FAQ, as well as someone to Review and socialize. Thank you very much Writer!

2) - If you look at my Reviews, you can see that this person, whether he/she may be male or female in the real world, has Reviewed for every chapter in the story, all if I am not mistaken. RF's outstanding feedback gave me idea of my strong and weak points. Thank you RF, hope you got your computer today this Christmas.

3) **Pie in the Face**-I felt like doing this, because it impacted how good of a story it was. First Reviewer, first to say! It helped me motivate myself in finishing this story, unlike all the other deleted crap I made and produced.

4)**xXSuperNovaXx**- Most exciting Review read. Your review cracked me up so much that it knocked NaNoWriMo off my calendar (literally) and made me decide to go back to Fanfiction-dot-net. Thanks for helping out the other readers too.

5)**All You Other Reviewers/ Readers/ Story Alerter's/ and Favorite Story-ers**- You have not been forgotten! I may have not sent you a PM regarding your Alert/ Favorite/ or rarely the review (I think I missed one, RF. Did I?), but I apologize for the lack of communication. I still thank you for sending it this kind of praise, as I do check Story Traffic everyday. Sure, the traffic sucks at times, only to jump once I update a Chapter, but I guess it helps.

* * *

Other Stuff You Wanted to Know

If any of you readers know of a country, continent, state, province, etc. named "Satellite Provider", please tell me. It was found in Country Breakdown of October, and I find it bizarre.

"That's it! Here is a list of what helped me do my stuff...

1) Shurtugal-dot-com and Inheritance Wikia: Basic source of information. Helped a lot in character development in past books.

2) The Books Themselves: Actual Plot? Past Quotes? Where do I get them again...?

3) Joe Hisaishi Music: Mononoke Hime (Princess Mononoke) and Laputa- Castle in the Sky Original Soundtracks! Helps when two of them are in the second to last chapters...

4) Pokemon Mystery Dungeon: Original Soundtracks and cut-scenes for script.

5) Halo (CE, 2, 3, ODST, Reach): Basic campaign storyline and Original Soundtracks, stress reduction.

6) Runescape: Costume ideas and minor character development, as well as stress reduction.

7) Desktop Defender: Also plays a part with stress reduction.

8) Specific Friend (name omitted due to confidentiality): Asking how many chapters are left in the story.

9) Finally... Fanfiction-dot-net: Where I can post my story(s) and where you can read 'em!

* * *

"Also to the IC crew where I can mess with their heads!" Kai patted Eragon on the head.

"Hey!" everyone cried at Kai. Murtagh started to draw his sword. Kai merely returned to his seat, booting the computer up and typing something down.

_I don't have a head yet,_ the light-blue egg said, _so I am not insulted yet._

"Have a Merry Christmas, and a Happy New Year to you all. And one last time..."

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**READ AND REVIEW! LAST CHANCE!**


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